

## At the Cowboy's Mercy

### By

### Emma Jay

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2012 by Emma Jay

All Rights Reserved.

To Ava, who helped make this romance more romantic!

## CHAPTER ONE

Eleven years ago

Luke Delaney shifted as he looked across the table into Kennedy Stacey's laughing brown eyes. He loved these nights when she was here at her father's ranch, home from college, so full of life. Her father, Red, liked it too, celebrated by barbecuing on the patio, filling up the cooler with beer. Too often, the three men—Luke, his brother Liam and Red—grabbed sandwiches on their own, rarely sitting down for a meal. But when Kennedy came to visit, they had a spread, bigger than the four of them could eat.

Tonight everything seemed brighter, her mood lighter than usual, and she was watching at him in a way he'd dreamed about her looking at him for years. She took a sip from her beer bottle and smiled at him around it, one of those smiles that meant she knew the effect she was having on him, and enjoyed it.

Would maybe even act on it.

Liam, older than him by a year, the same age as Kennedy, leaned across the table to grab the pink bakery box of cupcakes she'd brought. With a laugh, he scooped one out and dragged his tongue around the rim, licking off the thick chocolate icing, his gaze on Kennedy, but Kennedy didn't acknowledge him. That wasn't a good sign. Liam didn't take well to not being noticed, which was why he wanted to bust broncs in the rodeo. But it was Kennedy's reaction that made hope surge in Luke's chest.

Hope, and something else, which meant he couldn't cross the patio to get a beer from the cooler, not in front of Kennedy's father, the man who'd taken Luke and his brother under his wing, teaching them about horses and the rodeo. He owed the man more than that, but he was nineteen years old, and Kennedy was irresistible.

His pulse thundered as he made his way down the hall to her bedroom later that night. Her father had gone to bed an hour ago, on the other side of the house. Luke was no virgin, but something about Kennedy, her smile, her body....

Jesus, her body. He hoped he could manage some control, some sophistication, because right now, he feared he'd burst at the first sign of a nipple.

He rapped lightly on the bedroom door and thought he heard her say something, so he opened the door.

And froze.

She was saying something, all right, to his brother Liam, as she straddled him, her naked back to the door, her dark hair swinging, her hips pistoning as she rode him. Liam laughed up at her, king of the world in her bed.

Luke's heart dropped to his knees. He staggered backwards, miraculously not drawing their attention as he fumbled the door closed. All hope washed away as he dropped against the wall, wiping his hand down his face, as if that could erase the image burned in his head.

## CHAPTER TWO

The familiar scents of the rodeo enveloped Kennedy Stacey as she stepped off the city bus outside the arena—animals, fried foods, the exhaust from the food trucks and horse trailers. The February day was miserable, cold and wet. The last time she'd been in San Antonio, the weather had been the same. She'd heard locals call it "rodeo weather." But that time she'd been happy. She'd been working with her father, she had a job, a home...

She folded her arms over her growling stomach. If only swallowing pride could satisfy hunger.

Consciously blocking out the aromas of food from the trucks, she made her way around the fair grounds, over the gravel lot, toward the parking area where the rodeo cowboys parked their RVs, trucks and trailers. Her gut tightened—she hated asking for a favor, but she didn't have a choice.

Okay, she did. She could go work in fast food, or maybe be an exotic dancer. One wouldn't pay her bills and the other...she just couldn't bring herself to do it. More, she wouldn't have a place to stay while she got on her feet.

But her father had sent her here, certain this was the solution for her. But he hadn't seen Luke's face at the funeral.

She turned a corner and her throat constricted. He still had the same RV from five years ago. She hoped he was inside. It was late enough that he should be, and the lights were on. She'd prefer talking to him here than in the barn, where they'd have an audience. She took a deep breath and rapped on the door of the RV.

Long moments passed before she heard movement inside, then the door jiggled and she had to jump back as it swung open.

Luke Delaney squinted out, dark blond hair mussed, shirt unbuttoned, revealing a muscular chest under a soft-looking layer of light brown hair. He was so tall he had to duck in the doorway. But when he recognized her, he straightened, his jaw clenched.

"What are you doing here?"

Well, she hadn't expected a warm welcome. He'd made his feelings for her clear at her father's funeral. Which was what made approaching him so hard. So why was he the only person she thought would help her? "Hello to you, too, Luke. I need a job."

His whiskey-brown eyes scanned her. "What happened to that fancy one you had? What was it? TV producer in Dallas?"

She'd had to quit the job she'd loved, the job she'd been good at, eight months ago when her father got sick. When she went to ask for it back, they'd turned her away. They'd replaced her approximately two seconds after she'd left. But he couldn't know about that humiliation. "Cutbacks."

"And you couldn't think of anywhere else you'd rather work." He folded his arms over his chest.

Her gaze followed his movement, saw the colorful bruise just below his ribs. Luke was a steer wrestler, and it looked like one of the steers had gotten the better of him. She also noticed the lovely ridges of muscle that were carved into his chest. Those were new "You know I was a good crew member. I could keep up with any man."

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about what you did," he reminded her. "What makes you think I'd help you even if I could?"

Here it came, what she'd feared. He was pissed that she hadn't told her how sick her father was, was pissed she hadn't called him until it was too late, until there was only the funeral to get through. She should have, she knew, but she'd been so overwhelmed with her father's care, and her father had been adamant about not letting Luke and his brother Liam see him in his shriveled state. He hadn't told her about the foreclosure of the ranch until a couple of weeks before he died, when it was too late for anything to be done. Truth be told, it was probably too late for anything to be done by the time she got back to the ranch. The bank had been kind enough to let her stay until a month after her father passed, but now...

"I'm sorry I didn't call you. I should have."

His lips were in a thin line. "He was like a father to me, and he died without me being able to say good-bye. No apology will change that." And he closed the door in her face.

***

Luke rubbed absently at the bruise on his side as he entered the bar and grill a few blocks from the arena. He had been here last night and the food was pretty decent, kind of down-home comfort food that beat the hell out of anything he could get on the fairgrounds. His mouth already watered for some of those mashed potatoes and green beans, and was debating the baked apples to go with his pork chops when he saw her sitting at the bar with his brother Liam, their heads bent together, Liam's hand low on her back, his fingertips resting just above her ass. Heat rolled through him, carrying a feeling he hadn't known in a long time. He thought he'd grown past it. He certainly hadn't expected it where she was concerned.

A puff of breath could have knocked him over earlier when he'd opened his door to see her shivering there. She'd been the last person he thought would come looking for him. She looked like hell, too, the mist flattening her usually shiny dark hair to her head, the ill-fitting canvas jacket not warm enough for the freezing temperature. She was pale and thin, her eyes shadowed, and he couldn't look past his anger.

But now, seeing her at the bar, his brother's hands on her, the old protective instinct kicked in. He took a seat where he could watch, opened the menu, but kept his attention on them. She'd removed her coat and wore a fitted t-shirt like she always used to, the kind that showed off her incredible breasts and gave every cowboy in her vicinity a hard-on. Figured she'd turn to Liam again. What had him curious was why she'd come to him first.

He turned his attention away for only a moment when the waitress came and took his order. When he looked back at Kennedy, Liam was kissing her throat and rubbing his hand up her thigh.

Luke saw a tear glisten in the corner of her eye before it dripped down her cheek.

Before he could think, he was on his feet and striding toward them. He closed his hand around Kennedy's wrist and dragged her stumbling off the barstool. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, straightening herself by placing a hand right on his bruise. He sucked in a breath before he pulled her beside him and faced his brother, who would not like his prize being stolen.

"What the hell, Luke?" Liam drawled, blinking.

Luke looked down at him from his height of six-five. "She was waiting for me."

Liam narrowed his eyes. "She says otherwise."

He glanced at Kennedy. "What we had was a misunderstanding. If you bought her dinner, I'll pay you back."

"She's going to stay with me. Plenty of room in my RV, compared to yours."

"And we know what you'd want in payment."

"Come on, now." Liam gave the slow smile that got him laid regularly. "This is Kennedy. I wouldn't ask anything like that of her."

Luke turned to Kennedy. "How many drinks did he buy for you?"

"I had a beer, and ordered a sandwich."

"Right." He pulled out his wallet and drew out a ten dollar bill. He handed it to his brother. "We're even then. Get your coat and your bag, Kennedy."

She hesitated, then reached for the canvas coat draped over the barstool, then looped the duffel over her shoulder.

"You sure, Kennedy? I'm a lot more fun than my baby brother here. You remember that, don't you?"

She tightened her grip on the strap of her duffel. "I appreciate the offer, but I have an arrangement with Luke."

Liam looked from one to the other, shrugged and turned back to his beer.

Luke caught the waitress who'd taken his order. "Pack that up to go, with her sandwich, will you? We'll be by the door."

The young woman glanced from Luke to Kennedy and frowned, then nodded and headed to the kitchen.

Kennedy didn't say anything as they stood near the register waiting for their order. She'd put her coat on again, zipped it and huddled inside it. When the order came out, he waited, just for a moment, to see if she'd offer to pay, but she didn't. He sighed, paid the check, grabbed the bag, and walked out the door. She hurried after him, head down. Jesus, he'd never seen her so damned cowed. If he hadn't looked into her eyes, he wouldn't know her.

"Where you staying?" he asked when he opened the passenger door for her.

"I haven't found a place."

Right. He motioned her into the truck and placed the bag on her lap. She wrapped her arms around it, as if grateful for the warmth, for the shield. He sighed, closed the door and crossed around the front of the truck.

He didn't look at her as he turned on the truck and adjusted the heater so it blew in her direction. Even in the chilling temperatures, the truck hadn't cooled down too much.

"So you were going to sleep with Liam so you wouldn't have to get yourself a room?" he demanded finally. "Why didn't I get that offer?"

She jabbed her chin in his direction. "You didn't give me a chance."

He almost steered off the damned road. If she'd been willing to return to Liam's bed, why had she come to him first, especially knowing how he felt about her?

He pulled up beside his RV, shut off the truck and motioned for her to follow him. Hesitantly she stepped into the motor home, carrying the bag with their dinner, leaving her duffel in the car. As she set the food on the table, he closed the door behind her. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water, though damn, he'd wanted a beer at the restaurant. She sat on the upholstered cushion and opened the bag, placing his two styrofoam containers in front of his place before opening her own with shaking hands. He sat across from her, legs angled toward the narrow aisle and watched. She dug into her meal like she hadn't eaten in days, and he'd barely taken two bites of his green beans before she reached for the second half of her sandwich.

He sat back. "What the hell happened to you, Kennedy?"

Apparently she realized half her dinner was gone when he'd barely started. She reached for a napkin and wiped her mouth slowly, then took a sip of water.

"I haven't eaten all day."

He took in the narrowness of her face. "How broke are you?"

She kept her gaze on her food. "The bank took the house for Dad's gambling debts. His medical bills took the rest. I sold my car this week. I need a job, Luke. I'll do anything, work with the animals, shovel shit, whatever you need me to do."

He didn't want to answer, still too angry about the phone call she'd made to tell him about Red's funeral, the afterthought. But could he just kick her out when she had nothing else? Christ, look at her. Red would kick his ass if he abandoned her. And hell, she'd been a vet tech to put herself through college. They could use always use a trained hand around.

"I'll talk to Gary tomorrow about getting you a job with the livestock.Finish your dinner, then take a shower. I'll get your bag out of the truck. You can sleep in my bed tonight."

Her alarmed gaze snapped to his, and his temper spiked. She was willing to fuck his brother for a place to stay and a sandwich, but she didn't want him?

"Don't worry, I won't touch you." He'd sleep out here, on the couch that was even shorter than the too-short bed.

She closed her to-go box with half the sandwich still inside. Hadn't she just been reaching for it? Was she saving the rest for later? How hungry was she? He clamped down on his temptation to reassure her that she'd have food. If it made her feel better to have a meal stored, great. She slid out of the seat and made room for the container in the refrigerator.

"Thank you for dinner," she said softly. "You said you'd get my bag? I'd like to shower now."

***

What the hell had he gotten himself into here? Luke stood in the doorway of the bedroom and looked at Kennedy, sleeping the sleep of the innocent in his bed, curled on her side, hands tucked beneath her cheek. He wondered when she'd last slept. She'd taken forever in the shower and there'd been no hot water left, so he wondered about that, too. Was she really homeless? Was he stuck with her?

He turned back to the couch he'd made into a bed and dropped on it, his arm across his forehead, as if that could block the thoughts of her. When she'd been in the shower earlier, he'd remembered how he and Liam used to try to sneak peeks of her when they'd stay at the ranch. The t-shirts she wore hadn't left much to the imagination, but he'd have been in heaven to get a glimpse of a nipple.

He shifted, willing his hard-on away. She'd come to him for help. Besides, she'd cut him off from being with Red when he died. He couldn't forgive that.

For Red's sake, he'd find her a job working with the livestock and let her stay a few days, until it was time to head to the next rodeo.

He jolted awake later when he felt the RV shift. He blinked to see a flash of bare legs disappear into the bathroom. A few minutes later, she emerged, then paused in the hallway. Mesmerized by the silky legs, he watched as she disappeared into the bedroom, only to reappear moments later with a blanket. She placed it over him gently, not meeting his gaze, though she had to know he was watching her. Then, without a word, she disappeared down the hall, leaving him awake and aching.

## CHAPTER THREE

Kennedy leaned on the rail and watched Luke burst out of the chute, his attention on the young steer racing between him and his hazer. He leaned over and caught the steer by a horn with almost no effort, letting it pull him out of the saddle. But the steer swerved, making him lose his grip, and he hit the dirt of the practice arena. He rolled to avoid injury, but damn, that still had to hurt. He was on his feet in a moment, glaring at his hazer as he dusted himself off. Then he turned his attention to Kennedy, who dutifully trotted forward to loop a rope around the young steer and guide him back into the chute for another go.

She couldn't let herself get distracted by Luke's maleness, or his ability. He'd been kind enough to get her a job with the livestock, and he'd fed her and given her a place to sleep—the best sleep she'd had since she left home—but he'd been clear that he was doing this for her father's memory, not for her. He barely spoke to her this morning, just placed the box of cereal on the table and told her to hurry up if she wanted to get to work.

The rhythm of the job came back to her quickly, but why wouldn't it? She'd grown up on the rodeo circuit, doing anything that needed doing to earn her keep. She couldn't help being glad, though, that he'd gotten her a position working with the animals. Sure, it was the dirtiest part, but she'd always loved it. Did he remember that?

Once the steer was back in the chute, Luke walked into the other one, leading his mount, a horse she hadn't seen before, this one an Appaloosa. The last time she'd seen him, he'd ridden a bay.

"Where's Angelina?" she asked before she could stop herself.

He turned his head only briefly, then mounted the Appaloosa. "Retired, being a good mama. This is Rocky." He patted the big horse's neck, then craned his head so she'd get out of the way.

She retreated to the edge of the arena again. His focus sharpened and he gave a brisk nod, then the gate opened with a clang. This time his hazer kept closer to the steer, guiding it in a straight line, and when Luke leaned from the saddle, he caught the animal just right, held on, and with a twist of its head, dropped it into the dirt.

Both he and Kennedy looked toward the time keeper.

"Six seconds," the young man called.

Luke shook his head. "Again."

Once the steer was in the chute, Kennedy backed toward the rail.

And shrieked in alarm when hands grabbed her waist. She whirled, fist raised, to look into the laughing green eyes of Liam Delaney, Luke's older brother. She drove her fist into his shoulder to release the adrenaline running through her, then let him pull her close for an embrace. He smelled good, fresh from a shower, while Luke had been working for two hours already.

"Should've stayed with me last night. I wouldn't have you up working so early, at least not out here in the dirt," Liam said, setting her away from him so he could look at her—all of her. "Still the best rack in rodeo."

Her face heated. Their history was very firmly that, but her body remembered the pleasure he'd shown her. She broke free before she did something stupid. "You still using ropes to catch your calves?"

"Making good money at it, too," he said, folding his arms over his chest. "You're still more than welcome to check out my fifth wheel any time you want. Big as a house."

Nothing had changed. Liam always spent money as fast as he could earn it.

"Where are you staying?" he asked.

Something in the way he said it made her think he knew. "With Luke, for now."

He lifted his eyebrows and looked from her to his brother, who was stalking back to the chute after another missed ride. Something in Luke's posture told Kennedy his mistake was somehow her fault.

"With Luke? Has he forgiven you for not telling him about Red?"

"Oh, not at all."

"He loved your dad more than ours—not saying much since our dad was never around. That was cold, what you did."

"He asked me not to tell you. He didn't want you to see him like that."

Liam's green eyes softened. "That bad?"

She sucked in a deep breath, filling her lungs with rodeo. "As bad as you can imagine."

"You shouldn't have had to deal with it on your own. You could have told us. We wouldn't have let on that it was you."

She huffed a laugh. "And who else would it be?" She shoved away from the rail. "I need to get to work."

The eyebrows lifted higher. "My brother has you running after his livestock?"

"And shoveling shit," Luke added, his voice a growl. "Don't you have work to do?"

Liam backed toward the rail, hands raised. "Yes, sir. Prize money to win and all that." He turned back to Kennedy. "Good to see you. Maybe we can go get another drink tonight. A real one."

She didn't chance a look at Luke. She'd heard of sibling rivalry, but these two took it to a new level. Her father had insisted that they compete in separate events so they didn't kill each other. "Maybe," was all she said, not wanting to piss Luke off further as she trotted to gather up the steer.

As she led the tired animal back to the end of the arena, she watched the brothers. Their parents might not have had much time for them, but the genes they'd passed on were outstanding. Liam was shorter by half a head, slightly broader, and a touch blonder. His features were carved by an angel, his green eyes rimmed by thick lashes, his lips full and soft, something she knew from experience.

Luke was more ruggedly handsome, darker-haired, long jaw, a nose that had been broken by a steer's head a time or two. His eyes were more whiskey than green, though he was also blessed with thick lashes. Liam was the easy-going one, Luke was the hard worker, though before she'd hurt him, he'd been unfailingly kind. Apparently having her around put him in a foul mood. Perhaps she should start thinking about how she could make it up to him.

Luke stalked back to the chute and she met him there.

"This one's worn out, Luke. We need fresh livestock."

He didn't look at her, but caught his mount by the reins and looked into the animal's face. "No, we're done here, for now. I'm sure Gary can find you something to do." He nodded toward the older man who'd been running the chutes.

Kennedy wanted to ask what time he'd be back at the trailer, whether he would have dinner there or would go out, but all those questions sounded too domestic. He was letting her stay with him, they didn't have a relationship. And from the look of him, he didn't want even her friendship. So she turned her back as he walked Rocky toward the barn.

***

Kennedy was filthy and starving as she trudged toward the trailer. She hadn't had money for lunch, or time to come back to finish her sandwich, and the bowl of cereal she'd eaten for breakfast had worn off long ago. She couldn't decide what she needed more—food or a shower.

She stopped outside the RV and pulled off her muddy boots, banging them against the asphalt to remove most of the gunk. They were still pretty nasty, so she tucked them under the step, then opened the door and entered.

Luke froze in the hallway outside the bathroom, a thin towel clasped low on his belly. His hair dripped onto broad shoulders. The water trickled down over his chest, following the path of least resistance through the soft-looking hair that covered smooth muscles. She couldn't tear her gaze away as she followed the droplets over his flat stomach to the towel, which he held with one hand over his groin. The pose left his hips bare.

Holy shit, the towel shifted, and not because his hand moved.

"Don't you knock?" he demanded, taking a step back toward the shadow of the bedroom.

She snatched her gaze from his groin and looked up. "Don't you lock the door when you're in the shower?"

"I don't usually have women barging in."

"I'm sure your pleasant demeanor takes care of that." She walked to the refrigerator and grabbed her foam container.

"Put that back."

She glanced at him. "It's my sandwich."

"And it's all soggy. We'll go get something fresh."

"There's no sense throwing away perfectly good food."

"Except that's not. It's nasty, the bread is falling apart and the chips are stale."

Had he looked at it? Why would he? "I can just eat the chicken out of it."

"Why are you always so damned stubborn? I said I'd take you for food."

"I can't let food go to waste."

He crossed the RV in two steps, still holding the towel. He let the container drop to the table, popped it open, grabbed her sandwich with one hand, and ate half of it in one bite.

"There," he said around a mouthful of chicken salad, backing toward the bedroom again. "Not wasted. Now shut up and take a shower, then we'll go." He turned, giving her a glimpse of one fine naked ass, before he pulled the sliding door shut.

"My clothes are in there," she called as she stepped into the bathroom.

"Payback's a bitch."

Did he intend to keep her clothes hostage? Fine. If he wanted to see her naked, she'd march out of the shower naked. As the water rained down on her, she imagined Luke stepping in the tiny shower behind her, cupping her breasts in his big, rough hands, easing the ache he'd caused. She knew he wanted to, the way he looked at her. Just thinking about the heat she saw in his eyes, she curved her hands over her breasts, plucking her nipples. God, she could imagine his mouth on her. But before she could do more to ease the ache, the water went cold, and she shrieked. She finished bathing faster than she would have liked, since Luke's hot water heater was apparently tiny. She grabbed a towel so thin as to be almost useless, did her best to dry off, then slid open the pocket door.

But the RV was empty.

***

Luke's heavy coat was no match for the north wind, but he huddled outside anyway. No way could he be in the RV with her showering, thinking about her naked body, not after the way she'd looked at him earlier. Jesus, even the cold couldn't fight his dick's reaction to the interest he saw in her eyes. What would it feel like to take her up on that offer?

It would feel like shit, that was what, because he didn't like her. Part of him was still sad about that, because they'd been good friends before. She'd been his ally against Liam on more than once, until she'd landed in Liam's bed. She'd stood by his side as her father taught him everything he knew about rodeo, had soothed ruffled feathers, had teased him out of foul moods when he let Red down. Maybe that was part of the reason that he'd felt betrayed. She knew how he felt about her dad.

He stamped his feet and moved to the end of the RV to get out of the wind. He leaned his head against it and closed his eyes, remembering the summers on the ranch to give his weary mom a break. He'd always wondered if his mom and Red had something going on. His mom was still legally married, though his dad had taken off, but he never could figure out why Red would do such a thing for his mom if they weren't involved. Red had brought them to live with him on the ranch every summer, something Luke had looked forward to all year long, working side by side with Red, who managed to keep Liam in check most of the days. The best days were when Kennedy worked with them. Red didn't want her to ride the events, wanted her to focus on school, but she sure was good with the animals. That's why he didn't have a problem getting her this job.

Even if it meant she was sleeping in his RV and tempting his self-control with every breath she took.

The nights at Red's were even better, dinner, always loud, though it was usually just the four of them. Then a quiet evening on the wrap-around porch with Red, sometimes with Kennedy, resisting the urge to kiss her, to follow her to her room.

Yeah, those had been great days, and miserable nights.

The door opened. He stepped around the corner to see her looking out, her hair wet, wrapped in that damned ugly canvas coat.

"Don't you have something warmer?" Why was it his job to worry about her? She was a few months older than him, for crying out loud.

"No." She stepped outside and grabbed her boots from beneath the steps, then sat to pull them on.

"Why not? You sure didn't wear that piece of shit when you were working in Dallas."

"I didn't have any place to keep my clothes when the bank took the house, so I sold some, gave the rest away."

"And kept that?"

"I figured I wouldn't care much if it got dirty."

He looked at her a moment, huddled on the step. "Then get in the truck, damn it. I'll lock up."

She stood and dusted off her ass. "Is there a laundromat nearby? I'm going to run out of jeans soon."

"You could go over to Liam's. He has a washer and dryer in his fifth wheel."

Her eyes widened. "He's doing that well?"

He shrugged. "He's won some big contests. Once the money hits his palm, it's spent. Hell, sometimes before it hits his palm."

"And you?" She looked at the aged RV.

"I'm doing all right." His money went straight back to the land he'd bought out near Gonzales, the land he planned to make a home on. He wasn't going to be doing this for much longer.

"Still love it?"

"I never really loved it."

"You did when you were winning."

"Everyone loves winning." He'd loved how proud he'd made Red, was what it was. And how Kennedy had smiled at him, as if he'd done it just for her. He opened the truck door for her, then walked around, started the ignition and turned on the heater full-blast.

He drove to a barbecue place some distance from the grounds, not wanting to encounter any of the regular guys, the ones who looked at Kennedy with such speculation. He'd heard this place was good.

"When I get my first check, I'll make you dinner," she said as they stood in line to order.

"You don't need to do that," he replied, studying the menu board.

"I want to. You got me a job, you're putting me up, you're feeding me. I owe you that much."

"You don't owe me anything. Your dad would have done it for me or Liam. Hell, he did."

"Oh."

He glanced down at the tone in her voice. Her lips pressed together, her arms were folded, like he'd hurt her feelings. Something in him felt bad about that.

"All right, fine. A steak dinner with loaded potatoes and homemade bread."

"Does your oven actually work?"

"And I have a grill stowed in the storage compartment."

"I can grill a mean steak."

"I remember." The smile slipped up on him before he could stop it. "What are you going to do after this?" he asked. "Once the rodeo leaves here? Go on to the next one?"

"Not sure yet. I didn't know what I was going to do when I got here. I just hoped." She sucked in a deep breath, like she'd planned to say more.

"Do you want to go back to working in television?"

"I'd like to, sure."

So she was slumming until she got back to the big leagues. He got that, he guessed. She'd always been meant for bigger things than the rodeo, hadn't she? The girl he'd fallen in love with when he was a teenager shone brighter than anyone else he'd ever known. She could have taken on the world.

They ordered their meal, got their drinks and sat down. Luke was grateful for the television mounted overhead showing a basketball game. He wouldn't have to worry about conversation.

Only Kennedy didn't get the hint.

"Why do you do it, if you don't love it?" she asked.

"If I'm in the money, it's worth it. Past few months, I've been in the money. I bought a piece of land east of here." He took a long drink of sweet tea to hide his grimace. He hadn't intended to share that.

"Did you?" Her eyes lit up and she leaned on the table. "Do you plan on ranching out there?"

He cleared his throat and turned his attention to the game. "Yep."

"Cows? Horses?"

"Bit of both." He blew out a resigned breath. She'd just keep pestering him until he told her anyway. "Between gigs I drive down there, work on it a bit. Right now the big problem is the fence that needs to be replaced."

"Does it have a house? A barn?"

"The barn's the next project. The house can wait. I can live in the RV once the barn is up."

She questioned him until their food was ready, then dug in just as she had the night before. And as she had last night, she stopped when half her food was gone, and asked for a to-go box.

"Lunch tomorrow," she explained when he looked at her.

He finished his meal in silence. How many times would he and Liam have gone hungry if not for Red? She looked better than she had last night, in any case. Color was back in her cheeks, her hair was shiny, and she seemed more relaxed. Good. That was good.

He just needed to take this one day at a time.

***

"I'll sleep out here tonight," she said when they entered the RV. "It's too small for you."

"So's the bed."

"But at least you can lay crosswise on the bed. Don't argue with me. You looked miserable out here last night."

He locked up behind them, and suddenly the place felt very small. She edged toward the refrigerator to give him some space.

"You're bossy all of a sudden."

She smiled. "Clearly you don't remember the majority or our arguments." Then she realized what he meant—she was bossing him around his own place. "Sorry."

He shook his head. "That couch won't be any more comfortable for you."

He wasn't suggesting they share the bed, was he? Because everything female in her could go along with that. But boy, what a mistake that would be. She depended on him for everything right now. Sleeping with him would be like paying him back with her body, something she couldn't do, not with Luke.

A shudder ran through her at how close she'd come to doing just that with his brother at the bar. That Luke had seen her at her lowest added to the humiliation. She turned away.

"I'll just brush my teeth and get out of your way," she said. "Big day tomorrow."

Opening night of the two week rodeo. She knew she'd be run off her ass, and he had to do well to continue to compete. She wouldn't mention that she looked forward to seeing him ride for real.

What would happen to her if he got out of the competition early? Would he take her to the next place? Back to his ranch? Or dump her here?

She couldn't let herself worry about it. She hoped he'd last at least a week. That would give her time to send out more applications to television stations around the state. Maybe she could ask Luke another favor, that she be able to give the stations his cell phone number as her contact. And she'd pray that not having a permanent address would only show the stations she was willing to relocate, and not that she was a risk.

***

Luke hit the dirt hard, the sound of Rocky's hooves echoing in his ears. He rolled to his knees and shook his head, reaching for his straw hat.

"Goddamnit, Luke, where's your head?" Gary, the horse wrangler, snapped, climbing over the chute.

Despite his better judgement, he glanced toward Kennedy, who'd retrieved the steer. She glanced toward him, her brow furrowed. He turned back to Gary, who was red-faced as he looked from one to the other.

"Are you sleeping with her?"

Luke's shoulders tightened and his fists clenched. Gary took a step back, hands raised. Luke rolled his shoulders back and released the tension. "No. Of course not."

"Christ, maybe you should. I've never seen you wound so tight. You'll be going home tonight if you don't get over it." He strode back to the chute.

Kennedy walked past him, holding the steer in the halter she'd slipped on him. Her cheeks were red. Of course she heard Gary—the man wasn't quiet. Wondering what she was thinking made him more tense.

Because hell, Gary was right. He'd walked out of the bedroom this morning already in a foul mood, and finding her on the couch with one long bare leg exposed had darkened his mood further. Instead, he'd crossed the room, tugged the blanket over her leg with enough force to wake her, then slammed the bathroom door. He didn't even had the privacy to take care of the situation.

He felt like a damned teenager, sex always on his mind. He hadn't thought about sex this much when he _was_ a teenager. He needed to focus on the job, on the money he needed for the ranch. One good jack-off might do the trick. But he already knew whose image would play in his head while he did it.

"You want me to go work somewhere else?" Kennedy asked when he led Rocky back to the chute.

"Yeah. I'm done here."

Gary scowled at his announcement.

"Don't want to wear Rocky out before tonight."

"I'll take him," Kennedy offered, reaching for the reins.

His fingers tightened on the leather. "I've got it." He thought about telling her not to come back to the RV for a bit, but that was just inviting trouble.

He took Rocky to the stable, his nerves buzzing a bit. The next time he touched his horse, he'd be ready to ride. San Antonio's rodeo brought a big crowd in a big arena, and after months in small venues, it could be unnerving. After grooming Rocky, he gave him an apple and headed toward the trailer.

Yes, maybe Gary was right. If he got this out of his system, maybe his ride would go smoother tonight.

## CHAPTER FOUR

Kennedy slipped into a seat at the arena, one near the chutes. The scent of beer and nachos permeated the big auditorium, the roar of voices echoed off the high ceilings.

And Luke was about to ride.

She had worked since seven this morning and should be collapsed on the couch, but she was going to take advantage of one of the perks and watch the show for free. She caught sight of Luke behind the chutes, laughing with Liam. Her heart lurched. She hadn't seen him do that since she'd been back. Had he taken Gary's advice and gotten laid? He certainly seemed more relaxed. The idea of him seeking out a buckle bunny and taking her back to the trailer ignited a flame of jealousy Kennedy had no right to feel. But something had changed. Maybe all it took for him to relax was for her to keep her distance.

He mounted Rocky, and Liam led the horse into the chute. Maybe his mood had nothing to do with sex at all. Maybe he was just at peace with his brother, a rare enough occasion. She drank in every aspect of his body language, from the grip of his knees on his horse to the angle of his shoulders, to the glance he sent his hazer. Then a brief nod, and the steer was out of the chute, Rocky bolting behind him. With a shift of his weight, Luke was out of the saddle and onto the steer's shoulders, gripping a horn in one hand and the animal's jaw in the other. With an expert twist, he angled the steer's head toward its shoulder and brought the animal down, getting all its legs off the ground.

Luke rose to his knees and let the steer up, watching it trot away before he turned his attention to the clock. 4.3 seconds, propelling him ahead of the competition, with two more riders to come. He'd move on to the next round, even if both beat his time, which was unlikely.

He stayed in the chute area as the event continued, his grin widening when he realized he'd finish first. He remained to help his brother set up for the tie-down roping—the Delaney brothers loved to throw themselves from their horses. Liam likewise finished in the money, though second place.

Liam was the one to approach her after the event. "We're going to get a drink to celebrate. Want to come?"

She looked past him to Luke, who watched their interaction. "You sure he wants me to come?"

"His idea."

"Probably doesn't want me alone in the trailer."

"Could be that. Could be he wants you to come have a drink with us."

She rose and let Liam take her hand to guide her down the bleachers to where Luke waited.

***

They were not the only rodeo folk celebrating at the bar and grill where she'd ended up the first night. Her stomach tightened as she remembered how desperate and alone she'd been that evening, and how Luke had saved her. That shouldn't be so humiliating, should it? She'd find a way to pay him back somehow.

She squashed the feeling and followed Luke and Liam to a table by the far wall. Liam slid into the booth beside her and Luke sat across, picking up a menu from behind the napkin dispenser.

"Want something to eat?" he asked her.

Her stomach had started growling the moment she walked in and smelled all the fried foods. She eyed the menu for the cheapest meal. "I'll take a burger and a beer."

He grunted his approval, and closed the menu. "I'm getting a steak." He waved to the harried waitress and placed their order.

Her attention drifted to the dance floor, where cowboys danced with pretty girls. Liam watched, too, but Luke's attention was on the flat screen above the bar—another basketball game.

"You looked relaxed out there," she ventured, then slammed her lips together when he darted a surprised glance at her. Of course he'd remember that she'd been there when Gary was ordering him to get laid. She wasn't asking if he had. Was she?

"Just needed to focus."

Liam looked from one to the other, confused. "What am I, chopped liver?"

"Second place," Luke taunted without missing a beat as the waitress delivered their beers.

"Which means you're buying." Liam turned to Kennedy. "Want to dance?"

Tension ran from Luke across the table to her, but he didn't look at her, merely drank his beer and looked up at the screen.

"Sure." She couldn't remember the last time she'd danced. She swung into Liam's arms and he began to move to the fast-paced song, guiding her around the dance floor which wasn't nearly as crowded as the bar.

He was a great dancer, a good leader with a good sense of timing. He spun her and drew her back, closer, his hand shifting lower, resting just above the low-riding waistband of her jeans, his fingertips resting on her spine. With a little laugh, he pressed his knee between her thighs and pulled her closer, slowing to the new song, circling her hips with his. She shifted her hands to his shoulders to keep her balance and had no choice but to look into his face. He was laughing, but his eyes held a darker intent, a seductive one. For a moment, she let herself enjoy it, to remember what he made her feel, to move into it. But when he slid his hands down over her ass and squeezed, she stopped and stepped back.

"Thanks for the dance."

"Ah, come on, Kennedy. Let's have some fun. We were good together."

"I don't think so." She glanced toward the table.

Liam stiffened and released her. "Is he who you want to have fun with?"

She didn't answer, couldn't. It was true, but she could never tell Liam.

"Why did you go to him and not me? You knew he was pissed at you."

"I just—did." Because she'd known Liam would ask for a price. Not that making love to him would be any hardship—he was beautiful and very good in bed—but it would cost her more of her pride. Turned out she had more of that than she thought, and wanted to hang onto it more than she wanted to hang onto the few dollars in her pocket.

"My place is nicer. My bed is queen-sized, plenty of room for both of us."

"I'm not sleeping with him."

"Hell, I know that. All you have to do is look at him to know that. But if you were sleeping with me, you'd put him out of his misery."

Did he mean that Luke wanted to sleep with her? Because she kind of got that feeling, too, and she wouldn't say it didn't appeal. "I'm not sleeping with you, either."

Liam's gaze drifted to her breasts. "Shame."

Luke's scowl was darker than usual when she slid back into her place, but he said nothing, his attention on the television. She drank her beer and made room for Liam beside her. He dropped his arm over the back of the booth and she made a point to sit forward.

"Why don't you two go dance?" Liam encouraged. "This song is about your speed, isn't it, bro?" He pointed to the ceiling at the speaker above their table, where a slow song played.

Luke bared his teeth at his brother. But when Kennedy thought he'd ignore Liam's taunt, Luke grasped her wrist.

"Let her out, then."

"You could have asked," she said as he guided her out on the floor.

He fixed her with a look. "Would you have said no?"

"It actually wouldn't have occurred to me."

His big hand on her back was warm—or maybe the intimacy made her warm. Odd how his touch did more for her libido than Liam's. Because he was so tall, she had to move close to put her hand on his shoulder, and her breasts brushed his chest when they moved. His nostrils flared at the contact and he drew her closer. Her nipples hardened against his chest. His gaze flicked downward, then back to her eyes.

"Did he ask you to go home with him?"

His words rumbled against her body, distracting her momentarily from his erection growing against her belly.

"He did."

"He has a bigger bed than I do."

"I'm not interested." But she was quickly becoming interested in what was between them, literally. Bad idea. Bad. She needed to put some distance between them, but doing so might reveal too much. She placed her palm on his chest to move away and was distracted by the springiness of his chest hair beneath his shirt. What would that feel like to touch? What would it feel like against her nipples? She focused on the opening of his shirt and her breath hitched, just a little.

His fingers tightened on her spine. "Are you sure?"

She looked into his eyes, heat rolling through her at what she saw there. "Do you want me to go home with your brother?" she demanded.

Instead of answering, his jaw clenched, and he looked past her. "Our food is there."

If she'd expected him to say more, she was disappointed, because he twisted his hand free and walked across the floor to their table, leaving her trailing in his wake.

***

Walking was painful with the hard-on pressing against the fly of his jeans, and God knew everyone in the place could probably see it. But hell, could they blame him after having a body like that pressed against him? The little t-shirt was no barrier—he'd felt her nipples just as clearly as if she'd been naked.

"That was quick," Liam said when Luke approached, standing and giving his brother a knowing grin.

"Didn't want our food to get cold."

Liam glanced at Kennedy as she slid past him into the booth. "Looks like that's not the only thing that's cold."

Luke ground his teeth as his brother looked at Kennedy's tits.

She settled into her seat with a sigh. "Seriously, if I show them to you, will you stop staring at them?"

"Yes," Liam said without missing a beat.

"No," Luke said at the same time, though his cock was on Liam's side. Besides, he could imagine them just fine, outlined as they were in the thin top. Did she not wear a bra? "Eat your dinner."

Why he was in such a hurry, he had no idea. Once he got her back to the RV, Christ. The two of them shut up in that tin can, and he could think of only one way to pass the time. He was losing control. The thing was, right now, he wanted to lose control, wanted to make her lose it, too. He raised his finger and ordered another round.

"Hey, I heard about a card game going on in the horse barn tonight," Liam said. "Want in? You got money now."

Luke realized Kennedy had gone stiff beside him. Right. Her father's gambling debts had left her in this situation. She wouldn't be a fan.

"Pass," he said, wondering just why the hell he wanted to accommodate Kennedy's wishes.

***

"Give me the keys," Kennedy ordered, holding out her hand, palm up.

Luke looked from the assortment of bottles on the table to her. Maybe he had overindulged just a little, trying to kill that hard-on. Hadn't worked.

"You've been drinking, too."

"A beer and a half. Perfectly sober."

He almost—almost—dared her to dig the keys out of his pocket herself, but reached for them himself. "Gotta take Liam back, too, then."

"No problem. Get him off the dance floor."

Liam had made it his mission to dance with every female in here, apparently. Luke tracked his brother across the bar, where he was curved around a voluptuous girl who wore very little despite the temperature outside. Luke sighed and made his way through the crowd. He tapped his brother's shoulder, and Liam turned with a scowl.

"Heading back. Kennedy's driving."

"I got a ride," Liam replied, cupping the blonde's ass and making her laugh.

Luke looked from his brother to the blonde. She smiled. "I have a DD. I'll get him back in one piece."

"Thanks," Luke said, backing away. "You two have fun."

"You two, too," Liam replied, cracking himself up.

Yeah, that was kinda what Luke was afraid of.

Kennedy drove his truck cautiously, though he knew she'd driven big trucks, hell, she used to haul trailers. Maybe it was the fact that it was his truck that had her moving so slow. But she got them back to the trailer and geez, just like that his libido came out to play. She'd wrapped up in her ugly coat, but his mind's eye could still see her nipples poking against the fabric of her shirt. He couldn't even rub one out in the RV with her so close, listening.

Desire overrode reason with every step toward the door. Part of it was the beer, sure, he could place blame there, but part was just need. He needed her.

He walked into the RV first and turned to face her, his hip against the counter, his arms folded over his chest. She shrugged out of her coat and placed it over the edge of the couch.

"Show them to me."

"What?" Her gaze snapped to his.

"You offered. I'll stop staring if you show them to me."

"I was joking."

Of course she'd been. But he couldn't think of anything else. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"I thought we weren't going to do this," she murmured, shifting her weight from one foot to another.

"You didn't seem so against it when we were dancing. Christ, you felt so good rubbing against me. I know you could tell it made me hard. Show them to me, Kennedy."

Her gaze flicked to his fly. "And when I do? Do you want to touch them?"

His mouth went dry. "Maybe."

"Kiss them?"

Just thinking about it made his dick throb painfully. "Yes."

"Are you asking me to go to bed with you, Luke?"

Was he? "God, yes."

"In payment for me staying here?"

He shook his head hard enough to make himself dizzy. "Because you're making me fucking crazy. Let me. See them."

She reached for the neckline of her t-shirt, moving in slow motion. He made a strangled sound, meaningless, his gaze fixed on her tits. She tugged the fabric down beneath her breasts, bra and all, leaving creamy flesh and dark-tipped nipples, tight and long, exposed. He'd never wanted anything as much as he wanted to suck her nipple into his mouth, to feel it against his tongue. Jesus, he'd never even kissed her.

She released the fabric, leaving it framing her bare breasts, and stepped close enough to grasp the placket of his shirt and pull. The sound of the snaps parting echoed in the quiet RV, and she leaned against him with a moan, rubbing her breasts in his chest hair.

He swore, and in one move, grabbed her wrists and spun her so her back was to the wall, hands pinned above her head. He leaned close so she'd rub against him some more—Christ, his cock hurt—and covered her lips with his.

Her mouth was hot and spicy. He couldn't place where the flavor might come from, except that it was her taste, and he wanted more. Keeping one hand bracketed around her wrists, he looped the other around her waist and dragged her closer, pulling her up on her toes, thrusting his tongue deeper. She responded quickly, sliding her tongue against his, angling her head to invite more.

Then feeling her breasts against his chest wasn't enough. "I want to touch you."

"Yes." She shifted to free his hand from where it was trapped between her body and the wall. "Yes."

He curled his fingers around the firm flesh, rubbing his fingertips over her peaked tip. She gasped into his mouth and arched into him, pressing her belly into his dick. He opened and closed his hand around her wrists again.

"Do you like this?" he asked, his voice rough, his breath stirring the hair at her throat.

"God. Yes."

"You like me holding you?"

She swallowed. "Yes."

"Does it make you hot?"

"Yes."

"Does it make you wet?"

"Luke!"

He pulled back to see her cheeks red, her eyes wild. "Does it make you wet, Kennedy?"

"Yes." The confession came out on a breath.

"I want to suck on your tits."

"Yes. Yes, please." The last word came on a keening plea.

He had to lower her hands to just above her head so he could bend, brushing his lips lightly back and forth over the ruched tip, watched goosebumps rise over her white breast. He touched his tongue to her nipple, curled around it, then he closed his mouth over her breast, drawing gently at first, then harder. She flexed her fingers above his grip, her knees bending a bit. He lifted her breast higher, then shifted his touch to the other, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

"I want to touch you," she said, her wrists sliding up and down beneath his hand. "Please, Luke."

He let go of her so abruptly she sagged, catching herself with her hands on his shoulders. He grabbed her around the waist, lifted her and backed her into the bedroom. With one hand, he found the hem of her t-shirt and yanked it up, over her head. Then, holding her lower body against his, he unhooked her bra, then cupped her breast again. She smoothed her palms over his chest, making a sound of appreciation.

And then he lowered her to the bed, tugging at her jeans, needing to see her naked, stretched out on his bed, reaching for him. He wished to hell he had a proper bed, not this too-short thing, but he'd make do. He stripped down his own jeans and shorts, releasing his poor pent-up dick. He stretched beside her and ran his hand down her smooth belly, diving into her curls, parting her folds.

"Christ, you are wet." He wanted to feel her around his cock, more than anything. Instead, he slid a finger inside her, then two, crooking them, stroking inside her. She writhed, spreading her legs wider, bumping against his hand, needy. Then he stretched toward the bedside drawer and grabbed a condom.

She turned with him, trailing her fingertips down his belly and wrapped them around his cock, her grip firm as she stroked up and down. He stilled for a moment, enjoying the caress, her slender fingers finding the perfect rhythm. God, how often had he fantasized about her doing that very thing, when they'd been up at her dad's place? More than once he'd caught himself staring at her hands thinking just that. More than once, he'd jerked off to the image.

"Jesus, you need to stop." He caught her hand and placed it on her belly. He flipped over, grabbed a condom out of the drawer and ripped it open. After sheathing himself, he rolled over. Parting her legs, he positioned himself and drove home. She stiffened and for a moment he stilled. Had he been too rough? In too much of a hurry? But then she wriggled, moving into him, watching him through half-lidded eyes, and he stroked forward. Again and again. Needing—hell, just needing.

"I can't come this way," she panted. "You have to touch me."

Without a word, he drew halfway out and rubbed the head of his cock against her inner walls. Her head went back with a click of her teeth, her body went rigid, and her channel became even slicker. She rolled her hips against him to keep him in the right area, then arched, her pussy squeezing him rhythmically as she came. He plowed into her to the hilt and rode out her orgasm with deep, hard thrusts as her muscles clasped, and his climax ripped from him, taking part of him with it. What part, he was too mindless to identify.

He released her wrists to hold himself over her on shaky arms for a moment, then he dropped onto his back, one leg bent, the other hanging off the edge of the mattress.

"Didn't expect you to know about the g-spot," she said breathlessly.

He turned his head toward her. "Not my first rodeo."

She laughed, but kept her hands to herself. So he did, too.

"You need to get into the shower?" he asked.

"As soon as my legs work."

What did that mean? But he didn't ask. A few minutes later, she curled up into a sitting position, not looking at him, pulled some clothes from her bag at the end of the bed and slipped into the bathroom.

Well, hell. How bad had he screwed things up?

## CHAPTER FIVE

"I'm heading out to Gonzales tomorrow since I don't have to compete until Monday," he said after his shower, sitting on the bed and pulling on socks. "I'll take my tent and sleeping bag and you can have the RV to yourself."

Since she had to work, of course. He wasn't leaving her behind because he needed space. Exactly. She shifted on her seat on the couch. "Okay. Thanks."

"I'll get some work done out there, be back here on Monday, probably after lunch. Will you take care of Rocky for me?"

"Of course." It was the least she could do.

"Come to bed, Kennedy. It's big enough for the both of us."

She hesitated, then rose, bringing the blankets from the couch with her. He took them from her, then sucked in a breath when he saw her wrists, still red from his grip. He captured them in one big hand, gently this time.

"I hurt you. I'm sorry."

"It doesn't hurt," she said with a shrug. "I'll be fine." But she felt her cheeks heat at the outward sign of what they'd done—what she'd enjoyed.

He shifted to one side to make room for her. Again she paused. The bed was tiny, with his big body taking so much space. And while he'd dressed against the cold night in sweatpants and a t-shirt, she could still feel his hot flesh pressed against her. The fact that she wanted him again so soon scared the hell out of her. It was enough that she'd teased him into acting on his desire, that she'd let her attraction destroy her reservations.

She sat, then stretched stiffly beside him, her back to him. Moving just as slowly, he rested his hand on her hip and drew her against him. She wasn't going to be able to sleep with his breath stirring her hair, his hand still on her hip. The way he'd touched her only minutes ago, the way he'd moved over her, in her, played through her head over and over and she couldn't relax.

He had no such problem.

***

Luke stretched out in the sleeping bag and stared at the ceiling of his house the next night, the first night he'd slept inside it. He was determined not to count the cracks, to find the flaws, not if he wanted any sleep, but damn, it was in bad shape. He'd worked his ass off today on it, should be dead to the world, but he still ached for Kennedy. Damn it.

He'd reached for her this morning, hoping for a slower-paced lovemaking, but she'd already been gone. He hadn't seen her before he packed up the truck and left. That added to his disturbance. Did she regret sleeping with him? Was that why she bolted?

He couldn't really blame her. He hadn't been the nicest guy in the world, hell, he hadn't even kissed her, given her any kind of seduction, just demanded to see her tits. He hadn't been able to think of anything else since she made that offer. No seduction, no build up, and he'd left red marks on her wrists.

Worse, he'd taken her from Liam that first night because he didn't want his brother to take her to bed. He rolled onto his side and punched the wood floor. He'd been no better, unable to resist the temptation for more than one night. He'd always prided himself on having more control than Liam. Guess Kennedy proved him wrong.

He worried over her disappearance this morning, and the fact that she hadn't shown up to say good-bye. Maybe she thought he was sleeping with her as payment. He could understand her being upset about that. Maybe she was mad that he hadn't invited her to come with him to Gonzales, but she had to work. She'd be miserable out here anyway—nothing to do. Of course, she wasn't one to keep idle. He could imagine her out here, too easily. Worse, he could imagine her back at the RV, sprawled on his bed, her hair fanned over his pillow. He'd never be able to stop smelling her in his bed.

Jesus. She'd only been back in his life for a few days and already he missed the hell out of her. He'd tried to keep his anger at being able to say good-bye to Red between them, but since he'd spent time with her, he had trouble propping up that wall. He found it too easy to remember what he'd loved about her then, and wanted to draw that part of her back to the forefront.

***

Two days later, Luke's heart did something funny in his chest when he walked into the barn and saw Kennedy leaning against the rail, one foot hooked over the lowest bar as a pair of team ropers practiced in front of them. She was laughing, her head bent toward a cowboy who stood beside her—too close—his hat tipped back, his pose mimicking hers.

Liam.

The thing going on in his heart took control of his better judgement and he strode forward. His footsteps must have caught her attention because she turned, and a smile started to curve her lips in greeting. That only made the thing in his chest wilder. He caught Kennedy around the waist and plastered her against him, all in one move, before covering her mouth with his. She made a tiny sound in the back of her throat and pressed her hands, trapped between them, against his chest before curling her fingers in the front of his shirt and angling her head to welcome his kiss.

What started as a need to brand her melted into a need for more as she responded, for feeling her body against his, for her taste, her scent, filling his senses. He flattened one palm against the small of her back, pushing her belly against his hips, and curved the other around the back of her neck, stroking the soft skin beneath her ponytail.

Hoots and whistled echoed through the practice barn as the other cowboys noticed.

She broke the kiss, bringing her chin down, pressing her hands hard against his chest, and stepped back. The color in her cheeks was heightened, her lashes lowered. He cupped his hand under her chin and lifted her gaze to his. To his surprise, her eyes flashed and her lips pressed together. She wasn't embarrassed—well, not only embarrassed. She was pissed. She shot a glance in Liam's direction, then pivoted and strode away.

"So you're sleeping with her," Liam said laconically, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Or you don't want me to be."

Luke scowled at his brother.

Liam considered the team ropers in the practice arena and nodded. "Did you sleep with her because you wanted to, or so I wouldn't?"

"You were not in my head in the least."

"Good. Then maybe it bothers you a little that she's pissed at you?" Liam inclined his head toward the door where she'd disappeared.

Luke sighed and straightened. Where was his brain where that woman was concerned? Well, he knew _where_ , but why it chose that location with her.... "Yeah. I'd better go see what that's about."

***

Kennedy marched down the fairway, which was beginning to get busy as showtime neared. She wished she had the money to get on one of the rides and have it spin these thoughts out of her head. What had he been thinking, kissing her like that in front of everyone? No, she knew what he'd been thinking about. He'd wanted to claim her as his. But didn't he know what everyone else would think? Didn't he care how it would make her look?

Probably not.

Worse, it had been a top-shelf kiss, knee-melting and all that. He'd just showered and shaved and tasted of mint toothpaste. His shirt was new and crisp beneath her hands, and the way he'd held her—under any other circumstance she'd have loved every second.

"Kennedy! Hey, Kennedy, wait up!"

He was running after her? Oh, for...She turned to face him, and her pulse picked up. He did look so damned good in his black shirt with gold flowered stripes and his black hat on his dark blond hair. His brow furrowed as he stopped in front of her, and he shoved his hands into his front jeans pockets, looking just like the teenager he'd been when they met.

"Why'd you run off?"

God, he sounded just as clueless as that teenager, too. She folded her arms over her chest and glared. "Why'd you kiss me like that?"

He rocked back on his heels. "Maybe I was glad to see you."

She snorted. "Maybe you were jealous because I was talking to Liam."

His lips thinned and she knew she'd hit it.

"So why are you pissed? You kissed me back."

"Because now everyone knows we're—we slept together." The kiss had said told her he wanted her, but she wasn't sure that was such a great idea. It looked like she needed to be the brains here.

"So?"

"So, they think I slept with you for a place to stay."

He set his jaw. "You were going to sleep with Liam for a place to stay."

Her entire body went hot, and she was certain she looked like a thermometer. Her fingers curled into her palms and she willed herself not to strike out.

"That's right, Luke. I was going to fuck Liam for a place to stay. But that's not why I fucked you."

Aware people were watching, and a woman was covering her child's ears, Kennedy pivoted and race-walked down the fairway, back to the campground. But she couldn't bring herself to go into the RV, not knowing he might follow her and trap her there, not when she wanted nothing more to do than cry. Instead, she headed to the barns. Most of the stock was gone, waiting for the show. She closed herself in Rocky's empty stall, slid down the wall to the hay she'd just changed this morning, and cried until she was empty.

She couldn't stay away from the rodeo, though. She had to watch him ride tonight, to see if he advanced to the next round. If he didn't...she still hadn't worked out what she'd do next. She hadn't figured out how to apply without a permanent address or phone. She should probably talk to Luke about that now that he was back in town. Still, she didn't have much time.

Pushing the worry from her mind, she slipped into the arena during tie-down roping—Liam's event—and took a seat near the chutes. This time Liam and Luke weren't hanging out together. Luke paced behind the chutes, his shoulders tight. Damn, she hoped that didn't affect his ride tonight. Maybe she was being selfish hoping he'd move on to the next round, but she wanted it for him, too. He deserved the money, just for being a good—if clueless—guy.

He turned, and as if he knew right where she was, met her gaze. She twitched her lips into a smile and waved. She might be imagining it, but she thought his shoulders relaxed a little.

He tensed again when Liam's name was announced. He walked to the chute where his brother was mounting. She couldn't see Luke's face, but Liam nodded and grinned, then shot out of the chute. The rope circled overhead a couple of times before he sent it sailing through the air, right over the young steer's horns. He was out of the saddle before the animal took up the slack, followed the rope and tossed the steer to the ground, looping another rope around three of its feet, tugging it and stepping back, hands raised. His grin told her he knew already he beat his last time.

The announcer confirmed it, and after waving his hat at the crowd, Liam jogged back toward Luke, who embraced him. Kennedy teared up a little before anxiety took over as Luke's event approached.

So much could go wrong. The hazer could fail to keep the steer in line, Luke could misjudge, he could get a bad grip and fail to bring the animal down. Kennedy's stomach knotted as the first rider rode out and the steer outpaced his horse. The next rider's time was almost five seconds—not terrible, but he'd gotten to this round with a faster time.

And then it was Luke's turn. Rocky moved back and forth in the chute, Luke gave a sharp nod and the steer lunged forward. When it broke the rope, Rocky followed. Luke was in the saddle only a second, but Rocky blocked her view. Her gaze moved to the overhead screen, and she had to orient herself. She forced herself not to look at the timer but to focus on his performance. Luke's heels dug into the ground and he had a good grip. Finally, with a twist, he dropped the animal into the dirt. The clock stopped and Kennedy finally let herself look at it. What had seemed like an eternity was three point eight seconds. A shriek of delight tore from her throat and again he found her in the stands, grinning like a fool. A time like that would be hard to beat tonight. Looked like he was heading for the next round.

## CHAPTER SIX

Kennedy flexed her fingers inside her pockets as she waited outside the RV for Luke. The days had warmed up but the nights were still cool. She just couldn't make herself go into the trailer to wait, not the way they'd left things earlier. She tugged her hands free from her pockets when he turned the corner and strolled down the path. His pace quickened when he saw her.

"Why are you waiting outside?" He passed her to unlock the door.

"Not sure you'd want me back inside."

His shoulders eased and he angled his head to look at her. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier."

He reached out a hand and she took it. Heart tripping, she followed him inside.

"This is how I should have said hello," he murmured, and turned to take her into his arms.

His kiss was gentle and coaxing but no less devastating than the one in the barn. She wound her arms around his neck as he held her, both arms around her, making her feel cherished, not owned. His lips were soft, his tongue teasing. She rose on her toes, wanting to feel the strength of his body against her. He tightened his hold, but made no move to take her to bed. So she let herself melt into him, to savor every movement of his lips, every brush of his tongue.

He broke the kiss, easing his lips to her jaw, then below her ear. "Don't run away tomorrow."

She stiffened and lifted her hands to his biceps, to push him away. "I didn't—"

"I want you to go with me to Gonzales."

Her hands rested on the insides of his elbows as she tried to wrap her mind about what he was asking. "You spend the night."

"I do." His thumbs circled patterns on her back.

"I work."

"Not the next two days."

How did he know that? And he wanted her to go away with him? What did that mean? This was just sex, right? Going away together meant something more. He hadn't said he'd forgiven her for not calling him when her father was sick, but maybe he'd softened a little. And she was eager to see the place he wanted to call home. "Are you going to put me to work?"

He chuckled and dragged her hips closer to his. "Maybe. But I spent the past two days getting the house livable."

She frowned. "You said the house was last on your list."

"It was. But now it's rodent free, with a new bed and a functioning bathroom."

She angled her head, relaxing a little. "A functioning bathroom?"

"I thought we could take the RV, but maybe we'd like to spread out a little. Come with me."

Something in the pitch of his voice warmed her, and she nodded, not meeting his gaze, not questioning her own desire to go with him, to know the man as well as she'd known the boy.

His fingers hooked through her belt loops and edged toward the bedroom. She followed, heart pounding. Knowing how sex would be with him made this more exciting than the first time. He sat on the edge of the mattress and drew her between his thighs. He released her jeans and pushed up the hem of her t-shirt.

"All weekend long I thought about getting my mouth on your tits."

She made a face, even as he dragged his callused fingers over the sensitive skin of her belly. "I don't like that word."

He looked up at her, brows lifted. "What word? Tits?"

She nodded.

He brushed his thumbs against the undersides of said tits. "What word do you like?"

Honestly? She'd never given it much thought. "Breasts, I guess."

He shook his head, a grin canting his mouth. "Too hard to say. What about nipples? Can I say I want to suck on your nipples?"

A groan escaped her throat at the words, and she felt a charge go through her body. She nodded, and he flattened his hand against the small of her back, pulling her closer and opening his mouth over her lace-covered breast. The sensation of his tongue and the lace on her tender flesh, and then the gentle suction of his mouth, sent heat thrumming between her legs, so intense she wanted to slide her hand inside her panties to ease the ache.

He turned his head to her other breast, this time pulling down the cup so his rough stubble scraped her tender flesh. She tightened her grip on his wrists as he suckled, then dragged his teeth along her nipple. He released her with a pop and looked up at her.

"What about pussy? You okay with the word pussy?"

She nodded—or shook her head, she couldn't be sure, but she didn't have much control of her body. All she wanted was for him to _touch_ her. She pushed his hands toward the waistband of her jeans, hoping he'd get the message.

"Say it," he urged, his breath cool against her wet nipple.

"Pussy," she managed.

"Tell me what you want to do to your pussy, Kennedy."

"Touch it. I want you to touch it. God, Luke, I want to come."

He chuckled. "So soon?"

Bolder, she pushed his hand to the fly of her jeans. "Make me come."

"Tell me to touch your pussy."

"Touch my pussy, God, Luke."

He released her to grab the fly of her jeans, and with a tug, opened it. For a moment, she feared for the age-weakened denim, but then he thrust his hand inside and dragged his touch over her wet flesh, and...

She sagged so that her knees dug into the insides of his thighs when he clamped his mouth over her breast and pushed two fingers, knuckle deep, into her. Aching, she rolled her hips into his touch, wanting a release of the tension coiling inside her. She curved her fingers around the back of his head, holding him to her breast.

Despite her grip, he pulled away, mouth and hand. "I want you to ride me."

She swayed a bit, bereft without his touch, and scared as hell to be on top. She wasn't the most experienced when it came to sex, and he wasn't a small man. While his hips were narrower than the rest of him, he was just, well, big. But her needy body was desperate to get him inside her, so instead of answering, she reached forward and popped the buttons of his shirt, baring his chest. God, what a sexy chest, manly with the light brown hair over strong muscles and a few scars. She dragged her fingers through his hair, pushing him back on the bed as she did, and popped open his fly. His cock strained against the fabric, making it difficult for her to work the zipper, but she managed, taking the jeans and the boxer briefs down his thighs. She stopped mid-strip and curled her fingers around his thick length, savoring the heat and strength beneath her fingers. The curved smooth head beckoned her. She licked her lips and slipped them over the tip. His fingers dug into her shoulders, but she wasn't sure if he was trying to push her away or gain control of himself. Then he lifted his hips and she opened her mouth wider to take more of him in. The taste of him filled her, his scent surrounded her, making her hotter to feel him inside her. Her panties were already drenched. She slid her tongue along his length, savoring the texture of his cock, learning his pleasure spots. He pumped gently into her mouth a few times, then pushed harder at her shoulders.

"Not like this, not this time," he said. "Take your clothes off."

She straightened and stripped off her t-shirt while he watched, then unhooked her bra. She toed off her boots before peeling down her jeans and panties in one movement. The scent of her own arousal filled the small space. He finished removing his own jeans, rolled on a condom, then moved back farther on the bed, hands folded behind his head.

Taking a deep breath, she knelt on the bed, a knee on either side of his thighs.

"Tell me what you want to do," he urged as she moved up his body.

"I want to ride you."

"Do you want me deep inside you?"

Why did his words turn her on so much? Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head. "Yes."

"Put me inside you, Kennedy. I want to feel your pussy squeeze my dick."

She wrapped her grip around his erection and guided him to her opening. She lowered herself onto him, her body stretching, opening, the heat of him burning into her skin, branding her. God. She took him in in little thrusts, deeper each time. When she thought she couldn't take any more of him, he closed his hands on her hips and thrust upward until his pelvis was flush with hers, the wiry hair around his cock rasping her swollen clit. She rolled against him a few times, getting accustomed to the depth of him. She slid her fingers through his chest hair, up and down, loving the rasp of it against her palms.

Then she began to move. Her thrusts were awkward at first. Luke clenched his jaw, and she wondered what that meant. His thumbs rested in the crease between her thigh and hip, stroking lightly as she struggled to find a rhythm. One thumb shifted to rest on her mons, just above her clit, which swelled in anticipation of his touch. Instinctively, she moved toward it, her breath catching at the sudden pleasure she found. He grunted his satisfaction and matched her rhythm, unrelenting. Every thrust sent sparks of pleasure through her blood. He teased her nipple with one thumb and slipped his other lower, riding the ridge of her clit. She moaned and pistoned her hips, slamming them against his over and over, the wet sound of slapping flesh echoing in the tiny space, the orgasm building under his touch.

"God. Luke!"

He sat up, wrapping one arm around her as she came apart, her channel squeezing around him, her clit pulsing against his hand. Before she could catch her breath, he tightened his grip and lifted her. She expected him to flip her onto her back, but instead he pinned her to the wall. Her thighs spread across his as he crouched, one hand braced against the paneling behind her head, and hammered into her. She hooked her feet around his ass to bring him deeper. He took the invitation, pressed his hand against the small of her back as he fucked her.

Then he tightened his grip, his body flush against hers, and his breathing hitched. She felt the pulse of his cock inside her as he ejaculated. Why did that make her feel powerful?

Before she could give it much thought, he withdrew, and with one arm looped beneath her ass, carried her back to the bed. This time, he was gentle as he lowered her to the cool sheets. She felt him strip off the condom, then he curved his body around hers, stroking her hair as he drew her against him. His heart still hammered against her back and she waited for him to say something. Instead, he stroked his fingertips up and down her thigh, his breathing slowing until she knew he was asleep.

***

The drive to Gonzales the next day was gorgeous, everything green, the day unseasonably warm so they had the windows down. Luke had stopped at the gas station and bought some drinks. Kennedy hadn't had a Big Red in ages, hadn't had the wind blowing in her hair, feeling damn near carefree, in almost as long. She smiled over at Luke, the first real smile she'd felt in months. She would not attribute her relaxed state to the two orgasms this morning. In fact, she shifted on her seat, sore.

He seemed more relaxed, too, and while it could be the blow job she'd given him earlier, she thought it was more that he was getting away from the rodeo, out to his land. His. He'd always been happiest when he was at her dad's place, out in the open, out in the air. He was an excellent rodeo cowboy, but sometimes she thought he was born out of time, that he needed to be away from people, out on his own, his own schedule.

He turned onto a white crushed rock road. Kennedy leaned forward for a look, but the road was lined with trees, and weeds grew high against the fence. The drought that had forced her father to sell off his cattle last year had ended, and now there was food in abundance.

"Don't go anywhere without a pistol," Luke said. "I killed a rattlesnake right over there this weekend."

"Rattlesnake in February?"

"They don't have calendars, Kennedy. They just know it's warmed up. You remember how to shoot?"

"It's been awhile." She remembered trekking out from the house to the tree line, toting a shotgun, ammo and a bag of cans for targets.The brothers had preferred handguns, though now that she thought back on it, Luke had looked damned hot shooting her shotgun. "Maybe we can get some practice in?"

He slid a look in her direction. "Maybe."

"What've you got?"

"A .38 in the glove box and a shotgun behind the seat. You're not going to shoot up my fence like you did your daddy's, though."

"That was your brother. He was a terrible shot."

"Still is." He turned on the signal light.

She straightened, straining to see through the trees. He crossed a cattle guard onto a gravel road lined with weeds. Her stomach tightened when she caught sight of a peaked tin roof over the tops of the weeds. He crested a rise and there it was, a single-storied Victorian, L-shaped with a porch that ran the length of it, and peeling paint.

"It's laid out like Dad's place," she said quietly.

He braked, some distance from the house. "I noticed that. Some day I'll add the limestone patio, the barbecue pit, a split rail fence. Maybe some flowering vines, morning glories or something trailing along."

Just like home. She could picture him here, just as she'd seen him at home, sitting on the patio, drinking beer and laughing in the evenings after a hard day's work. The question was, who would be with him?

He pulled up closer to the house and she got out of the truck, looking at the house. God, she missed home, and was aware of the irony that she hadn't been able to get away fast enough, away to college, away to the big city. Not because she didn't love her dad, but because she was tired of being the only female around so many men. If Luke and Liam weren't enough, her father's poker buddies were always around. She didn't begrudge him his friends, but maybe he could have chosen better ones.

"Watch your step," he warned, motioning to the high grass as he rounded the truck to get his handgun out of the glove box.

She skirted the worst of the weeds and glanced at him as she put her hand on the rail to mount the porch.

"It's stable. I worked on that this weekend, and getting the plumbing going."

The screen door dragged against the porch when she opened it, and he stepped forward with the keys, swinging the door inward. The musty smell that came from disuse hit her as she stepped into the entryway. Even with the warming trend, the house held the chill of winter, and she shivered in her t-shirt.

To her right was the living room with a big window looking out onto the giant oak in the middle of the yard, and to her left was the dining room—at least she supposed it was. There was no furniture in the house that she could see, though he'd promised her a bed.

"Kitchen's through there," he said. "Running water and electricity, but it's a mess, and I don't have appliances." Which was why they'd stopped for sandwich supplies and packed them in the cooler. "Bedrooms are down that hall and to the left. Only one bathroom is working and I cleaned it the best I could."

She turned into the dining room to walk through the empty kitchen—also with big windows, which made the place bright and happy despite its disrepair. There was a door leading outside on one end of the room, and a door leading to the hallway at the other. She followed the hallway down the longer part of the L. Three bedrooms and two bathrooms lined it, but only one bedroom had a bed, a big one, with a wrought iron headboard that looked old, the white paint peeling, though the bed itself was neatly made with a quilt and big pillows, inviting. Her nipples pebbled just thinking about being in it with Luke.

"You like it?" he asked, suddenly too close.

Not sure if he meant the bed or the house in general, she turned to face him. "You have your work cut out for you."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Do I?"

So he meant the bed. She took a step back, unsure what to say, and he followed. Suddenly the bright room seemed tiny, and before she knew it, he'd wrapped her in his arms.

Would every kiss be different? One seeming to be against his will, one claiming, one gentle, this one possessive, yes, but with an edge of neediness. She'd never thought of Luke as needing anything, least of all her. Feeling powerful, she pressed against him, one arm around his waist, her elbow bumping the butt of the gun he'd attached to his belt. A thrill went through her, which was ridiculous, since she'd grown up around guns. They were just one more tool a rancher needed. But she'd seen him shoot and he was damned sexy when he did it. Her panties grew damp at the mental picture and she rubbed against him, curling her hand around the back of his neck, feeling his erection rise between them.

She matched his tongue stroke for stroke, savored the movement of his lips against hers, the rasp of his stubble. She started to lower herself to the bed, but he tightened his grip on her for a moment before he lifted his head with a sigh.

"Later." He brushed his thumb over her nipple before he stepped back. "There's more to see."

Her body hummed with frustration. He'd started that, hadn't he? Only to call an end to it? Okay, maybe she shouldn't think that just because they were alone and there was a bed that it would be sex all the time. Luke was a driven man. He probably wanted to get some work done. And he'd wanted her with him, so that should make her feel good, right?He didn't just see her as an outlet for sex.

What would make her feel good right now was an orgasm, or at least more excellent kissing. If she was brave, she'd grab him back to her and demand just that. Instead, she followed him out the third door that led from the end of the hall to the patio.

"Mind if we take the tractor on the tour?"

She frowned. "Where will I sit?"

"On my lap."

The glint in his eye made her stomach pitch. "I can't ride on your lap on a tractor. I'm too tall. Too heavy."

He cupped his hand over one ass cheek. "Just right." He slapped the other cheek playfully as he walked past her toward the barn.

She followed, picking her step carefully behind him. He had the gun, he could shoot any snakes.

The barn wasn't in as good of shape as the house, the wood sagging on the frame. She glanced back at the house to compare the roof, but the house had a shiny tin roof, the kind that was supposed to last forever. The barn's needed help. How could he do all this himself, and still ride the rodeo circuit?

The sight of a big green tractor surprised her when he got the doors open against the weeds that grew against the barn. Green tractors did not come cheap.

"It's secondhand," he replied to her unasked question. "Or possibly third or fourth hand. I got a good deal."

He hefted himself up on the seat and twisted the key. The tractor sputtered to life as if under protest. Despite the racket the engine was making, Luke grinned at her like a kid. He was so different out here, so relaxed. So at home.

He reached a hand to her. She hesitated, gauging the distance between his lap and the wheel, the width of the seat, then put her hand in his. He guided her to his thigh, angling her knees between his legs. The vibrations were either going to make it very interesting or very uncomfortable.

"Put your arm around my neck," he murmured, and shifted into gear.

## CHAPTER SEVEN

Luke drove the tractor along the bank of the stream with the mower down, sending weeds flying into the water, where they were quickly washed away, then turned the tractor off. Before he could suggest they stretch their legs, she'd jumped off his lap and climbed down the tractor. He moved slower, his leg tingling as the circulation returned. Maybe not his best idea, but he'd liked having her arm around his neck, her hair whipping in his face. And she smelled so damned good. He watched her rub her ass as she walked down to the water and reasoned it hadn't been too comfortable for her, either, but she hadn't complained. He opened his mouth to warn her about snakes, but she was being careful on her own. The smell of diesel dissipated on the breeze as he stood on the running board.

"It's so clear," she said, and dipped down to stick her fingers in the running water. "And cold!" She folded her hand against her belly to warm it. "Does it lead to a stock tank?"

He inclined his head down the hill. "Just over there. When I bought the place, it was damn near dry, just a mud puddle. The rains this winter have built it up again, but that was a damned scary sight."

"Yet you bought it anyway."

He lifted a shoulder. "It was cheap."

She lowered herself to the freshly mown bank and lifted her face toward the sun. Times like these, he forgot their past, forgot he was supposed to be mad at her. Hell, if he was really mad at her, would he have brought her out here, wasted two good days working inside the house instead of repairing the fences like he'd planned? He didn't want to linger on his motivation where she was concerned.

"So are you going to quit riding and be a gentleman rancher?"

He snorted and sat beside her, legs folded, arms draped over his knees. "I want to earn the money while I can. This place won't pay for itself for a long time." It was a terrifying thought, actually. He'd gotten a good deal on it because of the drought, depleted his savings almost to nothing, but it was paid for. His truck and RV were free and clear, and the tractor. But the place needed repairs and he needed livestock to pay for it. He didn't mind living out of his trailer while he fixed the place up, but he needed a source of income.

"You could get Liam to go in with you. He looks like he's doing all right."

Luke snorted. "He spends money before he makes it. He gets hurt, he's screwed."

She plucked a blade of Johnson grass that the mower had missed and twirled it between her fingers. "You could find a rich wife."

He chuckled. "Maybe. Maybe one who lets me say 'tits.'"

She wrinkled her nose. "Good luck with that."

When she started to get up, he pinned her to the ground, his hands on either side of her hips. "Maybe one who likes sex on the bank of the creek."

She looked at him through her lashes, a teasing smile on her lips. "Maybe if you hadn't scared someone to death with talk of snakes, you might not need a wife for that."

He shifted so his hips were between her knees, and pressed forward until his fly was against her pussy. "I have my gun."

Her breathing hitched, and he took advantage of her indecision to kiss her, long and deep, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, savoring the taste of her. She responded as she always did, fast and eager, and he rubbed his growing dick against the seam of her jeans, making her moan. He pinched her nipple through her shirt, and she ground her hips up against him.

But the stubble of the newly mown area bit into his palm, and he didn't want to mar her soft skin by screwing her here. Instead, he pulled back, kneeling between her legs and reached a hand to her. She blinked.

"What?"

"Ground's too rough."

She didn't say anything, only put her hand in his and let him haul her to her feet. She leaned into him a moment and lifted her face to his. He kissed her softly, then turned her and shoved her gently up the bank. With a swing in her hips, she led the way to the tractor. She waited by a rear tire for him to get situated, then stepped up on the running board, then the floorboard, and swung a leg across his hips, so she sat facing him, her breasts against his chest, her pussy riding his fly.

"Turn it on," she murmured.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Turn it on, or you on?"

"Yes," was all she said.

He reached around her and twisted the key in the ignition and—holy hell. The vibrations were magical, pushing his hard dick against her. Her eyes drifted shut and her head fell back, her breath escaping in a soft sigh. He captured her breasts briefly, feeling her nipples stab his palms through the thin fabric of her bra, before he slid his fingertips beneath the waistband of her jeans.

She shifted forward, denying his touch, and a moan escaped her lips. All right, then. She wanted to come with his cock against her.

"Drive," she urged.

"How am I supposed to see where I'm going?"

She lowered her head to his shoulder, as if that was an answer.

"I want to see your face when you come." Jesus, he wanted to whip out his dick right now and shove it in her, but he hadn't brought condoms.

"So close," she whimpered against his neck. "Drive."

He reached for the gear and shifted blindly, looking over her shoulder to make sure he didn't run into a damned tree or something. She didn't wriggle on him. No, she seemed content to let the tractor do all the work. The tractor and his aching dick. She owed him something good after this.

The road was rutted, and the first bump dislodged her. She righted herself, her legs tight about his hips, and when he hit the next bump, he felt her come. Her hips rolled forward, determined to keep contact, as the rest of her body started moving in boneless waves, her breath uneven against his throat.

He gripped her ponytail and pulled her head back so he could watch the play of pleasure across her face, then he reached between them to unbuckle his belt, ready to stroke one out right there. God, his balls ached.

The beep of a horn behind him had him gripping the wheel with both hands and taking his foot off the gas. But the truck that honked was on the other side of the fence, his neighbors tooting a hello. Kennedy burrowed her face deeper into his shoulder.

"God, do you think they saw me? That they know what I was doing?"

Luke had caught the thumbs up sign from the passenger which let him know they knew exactly what she'd been doing. But he rubbed her lower back. "No, sweetheart."

The urgency to get back to the house and pound into her had eased, especially when she pulled herself together and decided to stand on the running board instead of sit on his lap. She didn't meet his gaze, which was fine since he needed to keep his attention on their path, anyway.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, swinging off the tractor onto the porch when he slowed.

"Let me mow a bit, then I'll be in," he said, needing to get himself under control. He wasn't sure why he needed to be in control out here, but he hated _not_ being in control. And Kennedy was rough on that. So he let her go into the house—she seemed grateful, if the posture of her shoulders was any clue—and he put the tractor in gear.

He wasn't sure how he heard her scream over the puttering engine, but somehow it pierced the low sound. He yanked the brake, killed the motor and bolted for the house, drawing his gun from his holster. Had to be a snake. Had to be.

"Kennedy!" he shouted when he burst through the door, damn near taking the screen off its hinges.

"The bedroom," she called back. "It's okay. It's okay. I'm sorry."

He rounded the corner to see her standing outside the bedroom, her hand stretched toward him, placating. He holstered the gun but didn't slow, grabbing her arms when he reached her, needing to make sure she was all right.

"What the hell happened?"

"Unexpected company." She nodded toward the bedroom.

He rested his hand on the gun again, expecting to see a snake or rat or possum. What he saw was the barn cat laying on the foot of the bed, panting heavily.

"I thought she was dying," Kennedy said quietly, following Luke into the bed.

Not dying, no. Having kittens. On his bed. Shit.

She'd had two, and both were still in the sack. Christ, had she never had a litter before? Where was her instinct to tear the placenta from around her babies? Pulling his knife, he popped it open, barely aware of Kennedy's gasp of alarm. He sliced both sacks open, the one that was still wriggling first, then the one that wasn't.

"Here." Kennedy helped the wriggling kitten out of the sack in front of the mother.

Luke marveled for a moment that she wasn't squeamish, then went to work on the other kitten, rubbing its little chest, but it was too late. Meanwhile, the mother cat watched him with half-lidded eyes as she pushed out another baby. This time he watched as she twisted to look at her kitten, then ripped the sack with her own teeth. Kennedy placed the living kitten near the mother's belly and let it find its way to a nipple. Its sibling joined it.

"Keep an eye on her," Luke said, handing over the knife. "I'm going to see if I can find a box. This is the only quilt I've got."

***

When he returned with a box that he'd brought out a couple of weeks ago, loaded with groceries and a little gnawed at the corners, Kennedy was kneeling on the bed, straightening a towel beneath the mother cat. He didn't want to know how she'd managed that. Another kitten had joined its siblings and was nursing greedily.

"She opened the last one on her own," Kennedy said, handing him back his knife. "Thank goodness."

He chuckled and tucked the knife in his pocket. "I'm going to let you get her into the box, since you had luck already getting that towel under her."

She scowled, then removed the kittens from their mother's nipples, eliciting all kinds of kitty chaos as the kittens mewled and the mama hissed. Kennedy expertly lifted Mama Kitty with the towel and placed her towel and all into the box. Then she quickly scooped up the kittens and returned them to the comfort of their mother. Luke carried the box toward the door, but Kennedy stopped him.

"Just leave it there."

"Kennedy, she's a barn cat. She'll be fine outside."

"What if she needs our help?"

"Kennedy." But the look on her face stopped him, and he set the box by the door with a sigh. "If she gets back on my bed..."

She looked toward the bed. "We should probably get that to a laundromat. There is one in town, isn't there?"

His turn to scowl. He hadn't wanted to spend any time away from the property. So much needed to be done. "I suppose. We'll eat lunch there, too."

As she unmade the bed and carefully folded up the quilt, he watched.

"I don't remember you being so soft-hearted."

"I wasn't," she said quietly, and turned to him with the quilt folded in her arms. "Do you want to go now?"

He cursed himself for talking without thinking. He knew just what made her soft-hearted, the same thing that made him hard-hearted to her. If she'd just let him know, he could have been there for her and they could have gone through her father's illness together. Why couldn't she see that?

But it was too late now. The past was the past, and he needed to get over it or send her on her way.

## CHAPTER EIGHT

The trip to the laundromat and lunch ended up stretching to a trip to the local big box store, where Luke spent more money than he'd planned, buying wet cat food and new towels, a couple of lamps and a sun tea jar Kennedy liked. All that meant he got back to the farm late in the afternoon, losing the best part of another day of work. He dropped Kennedy off at the house with the clean quilt and bags of cat food for a barn cat, for crying out loud, then headed for his tractor.

When he came in, it was almost dinner time, and shadows stretched through the house. He'd only stayed in the house this past weekend, but the lighting seemed familiar somehow. He turned on the lamp in the kitchen and headed through the quiet house to the bedroom.

Kennedy was curled on her side facing the door, the mama cat and four kittens on the bed with her. Mama Kitty lifted her head when Luke entered and blinked drowsily. Luke could hear her purring from the doorway.

Kennedy, on the other hand, was asleep. Luke crossed the room, picking up the box on the way. He scooped the cat and her kittens into it, then stretched out on the bed next to Kennedy. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened wide. She started to get up, but he looped his hand over her waist, pinning her to the mattress, then leaned in for a kiss. She protested softly against his lips, then melted into him. He coasted his hand down to squeeze her ass gently through her jeans, and was rewarded when she pressed her hips against his.

With a grunt of approval, he rolled her onto her back, positioning himself between her legs, and rubbed his erection against her mound. She gasped into his mouth and arched into him. He slipped one hand between them and pushed up her t-shirt, stroking her breast through the lace of her bra. The sound she made, low in her throat, sent a stab of lust through him. He trailed his fingertips down the sides of her waist, making her squirm, before he unbuttoned her jeans and peeled them down with her underwear. She whipped her shirt over her head and lay back on the pillow, legs parted, watching him watch her.

The desire to drive her crazy for him overwhelmed him, and he traced patterns up the insides of her thighs. Her hips bucked the closer he got to her pussy, so he floated his fingers back down. This time the sound she made was frustration, and she parted her legs wider to entice him. He repeated the caress, his focus on the creamy pink flesh beneath the dark brown curls. Again he left her wanting, and watched her grow wetter.

"If you don't touch me, I'm going to do it myself," she warned in a husky voice.

For a moment, he got so light-headed, he thought he was going to pass out. "Yes," he managed.

Her eyes widened and her hand on the mattress beside her hip trembled, but then she lifted it. Part of him wanted to take her hand and guide it, but another part wanted to see her take charge of her own pleasure. She skimmed her fingers through her curls, then one finger separated to caress her swollen clit, up and down, then around a few times.

His cock pressed insistently against his fly, and he freed it with a few frantic moves, taking it in hand and stroking lightly as Kennedy reached to circle her opening, dipping inside to wet her finger with her cream, then back up to her clit. He glanced up to see she was watching him stroking himself. Her eyes were dark and her lips parted.

"Could you come like this?" he asked.

"Mm. Could you?"

"Would you let me come on you?" He could already see her belly wet with his come.

Her hips arched again, almost of their own volition, and she nodded. He tightened his grip, shortened his strokes, as she toyed with her clit. He couldn't help himself—he grabbed her hand and brought it to her mouth, just to taste her, sucking her juices off her fingers before placing her hand back on her pussy. She grew bolder, dipping her fingers inside herself, two at a time, before stroking faster. Her cream coated her pretty pink flesh and—Christ.

He reached into his pocket for a condom. After the time on the tractor, he wasn't going to be without one anymore.

"I have to be inside you," he said as he rolled it on and braced over her. "Don't stop touching yourself."

He angled her hips and entered her slowly when he wanted to slam himself home. Her channel contracted around him as she continued to stroke herself, her entire body tensing.

"I'm close," she managed. "Luke, fuck me."

"Don't stop," he said, cupping her hips and thrusting into her. Jesus, she was so wet. He fucked her, feeling her fingers pull at her flesh, catch the hair at his groin. Her body grew tighter and tighter, around him, beneath him, her fingers frantic. Then she shoved her hips against his with a cry, her cunt softening, pulsing around him as she met his thrusts. Her hand fell away as her body relaxed, but his need drove him, deeper, harder, the image of her pleasuring herself burning in his mind, fuel for lonely nights ahead.

And then he emptied, going still, his come in long, hot spurts seeming to originate from his goddamned boots, which he still wore.

"I like it when you fuck me with your clothes on," she said when he collapsed on the bed beside her, his cock flopping against his shirttail. "It's like you can't wait to get to me."

He grunted. That wasn't far from the truth. And it scared the hell out of him.

***

They ate a quiet dinner on the porch—well, quiet except for the mews of the kittens in the box Kennedy insisted they bring with them. And the roosting birds in the trees.

"This is the best time of year in Texas," he said as he crunched on a chip. "No bugs."

"For like, what, a minute?"

"A day, at least." He winked at her, and she blushed. What was that about? Luke didn't tease, as a rule.

He polished off his sandwich and leaned back on his elbows on the porch. "There are some hooks there where I can hang a porch swing once I'm sure there's no dry-rot or anything."

"Sounds perfect. I bet the former owners sat out here and watched the sunset."

He glanced over and saw she was almost done with her sandwich. He jumped up, grabbed the cooler and held his hand out to her. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" she asked, wadding up her trash and looking for a place to stash it before he finally grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.

"To watch the sunset. Get in the truck." He pushed her toward the passenger side and bounced his keys in his palm as he circled the front toward the driver's side. "Wish I'd thought of this sooner." He put the truck in gear and circled it through the yard to head up the overgrown road, past where they'd stopped at the creek, farther up the hill. Again he circled the truck, facing west and put it in park. He rolled down the windows before shutting off the engine and popping open the cooler. He passed her a bottle of beer and twisted the top off his own, then settled back in his seat, his knee resting against the door.

She popped open the door, inspected the grass before jumping down. She used the tire to heft herself onto the hood of the truck, stretching her legs in front of her. He swung his door open and followed, plopping beside her on the slightly warm hood. She didn't look his way, merely smiled as she lifted the bottle to her lips.

Clouds gathered on the horizon, reflecting the oranges, pinks and purples from the sun's rays. The globe itself was already sinking beneath the hills, the bottom third already out of sight. Overhead, ducks flew in formation toward another water source. Around them, the air filled with bird calls.

And she linked her fingers through his.

"He didn't want me to call you," she said when the sun was nothing more than a glimmer of light on the other side of the hills. "He didn't want you to see him like that."

Luke's stomach clenched. "Why did he care how I saw him? God knew he saw me in bad shape more than once."

"He was weak, he was not in control of his body. The one thing he was in control of was who he saw and didn't see. For the last few months, the only people he saw were his doctor, his home health nurse, and me."

"That pisses me off, Kennedy."

She stiffened. "It wasn't my doing. He was my father and I was respecting his wishes. I had to. It was the only thing I could do to help him at that point."

"Did you try to talk to him about it? Make him see how important it would be for Liam and I to help, to take part?"

"He was so proud—"

"And yet when we were too proud he would call us on it."

She blew out a breath and sat forward, her legs folded, the bottle between them. "He was dying. I didn't want to fight with him when he was dying."

"Then you should have called me and let me fight with him."

"Peace was hard for him to come by. He had a lot of pain, and he didn't want to take anything at first. He was the tough guy."

Her voice had grown softer, distant. She was seeing it all again, and he wanted to tell her to stop, but she was the one who had started.

"When he finally gave in and agreed to the morphine, it was almost like it was too late, like he was having to play catch-up and just never could get ahead of the pain. It was too hard."

He wanted to say more, wanted to tell her he might have made it easier for her by being there. Instead, he hooked his hand over her shoulder and drew her against him. She was tense for a moment, then relaxed against him, her hand curling on his chest. He felt the shudder of a sob, then another, and another. As he held her against him on the cooling hood of the truck, he wondered who had been there for her as she watched her father die, as she put him in the ground.

***

He drove back downhill before it got full dark, and his headlights caught a group of does in the field on the other side of the fence from the road. He braked and the deer and humans stared at each other for awhile before another sound spooked the animals and sent them bolting into the trees.

They drove back in silence. When they entered the house, they were greeted by a questioning meow. He thought Kennedy would stop and play with the kittens, or insist on feeding the mama a can of food. Instead, she linked her fingers with his and led him to the bedroom, astonishingly without running into any walls in the dark. He was the one to find the free-standing light beside the bed. He released her hand to turn it on. When the low-watt bulb sent out a weak circle of light, she was facing him, her eyes a little swollen. But she edged toward the bed, lifting her shirt over her head.

"Kennedy."

"I want you to make love to me. Right now. I want to feel you with me."

He wanted it too, and hell, he couldn't resist her, even when she didn't offer an invitation like that. He moved forward and curved his hands around her waist, denying himself what he really wanted, finding her skin so soft. Her hair tumbled down her back and the ends brushed the backs of his hands. Who knew that could be so sexy? She angled her head to look up at him, inviting his kiss. He lowered his mouth until only his breath was between them.

"I want to do something."

"I hope you want to do lots of things."

"I want to tie you to the bed."

She jerked her head back, just a bit, her mouth forming an "o." But her eyes darkened with something like excitement. At least, he hoped it was.

"All of me?"

"Just your hands to the headboard."

"With," she swallowed. "With what? A rope?"

"I have an old t-shirt. It won't chafe."

"Do you—like that? Bondage?"

"Tying your hands to the bed isn't bondage. It's just—"

"Hot."

He nodded, hoping she understood, hoping she'd go along. He could picture here there, stretched out for him, naked, willing, while he drove her wild. She nodded, just once then turned toward the bed so he couldn't see her face.

***

What had she just agreed to? Kennedy's pulse throbbed in every part of her body as she lay on the bed. She remembered the first night, when he'd held her hands above her head as he'd fucked her, and it had made her a little crazy. Tying her meant he'd have both hands free. What would he do to her?

Her gaze followed him as he opened his duffel and drew out a ratty old shirt, then ripped it down the middle. She swallowed hard when he knelt on the bed.

"What if I don't like it?" she asked, shifting on the bed so her arms weren't so far away from the bedstead.

He paused from looping the fabric through the iron headboard. "Then say the word and I'll cut you free." He reached into his pocket for his knife, showed it to her, and placed it on the floor by the bed before taking her hand in his and rubbing his thumb over her palm. "But I'm going to do my best to make sure you like it."

Gently he wrapped the fabric about one wrist, then another, not unlike hogtying, she thought a little wildly. Then he levered himself over her, his body shielding but not touching hers, and kissed her softly. Not being able to touch him was odd—and strangely exciting. Her nipples tightened further, almost to the point of pain, as his tongue teased her lips. He kissed her jaw, and she angled her head, inviting his kiss along her throat. Instead, he shoved off of her and worked the fastening of her jeans. She hummed her approval as he peeled them down her legs, taking her panties with them. Then he lifted her foot in the curve of his palm and dropped a light kiss to the inside of her ankle.

The charge shot straight up her leg, sending a flood of heat to her pussy. She couldn't stop the groan that escaped her throat. He chuckled softly and continued soft kisses up to her knee. She tried not to squirm, but parted her thighs wider. He ignored the invitation, repeating the caresses on her other leg. This time his tongue joined the party, teasing the skin above her knee, and she thought he'd continue higher. Instead, he knelt beside her and bent to tease her nipple with a gust of breath.

She pressed her thighs together to ease the ache in her pussy. "Luke, please."

"Please, what?"

She arched her back so her nipple brushed his lip. He chuckled and lifted his head. "Cheater."

Then he lowered his head again, just the heat of him caressing her stomach. Her nerves danced on the surface of her skin, as if reaching for him, the only part of her that could. Her flesh felt hot, inflamed, eager for even a brush of his fingertip. She whimpered when finally he parted her legs and settled between them.

Everything in her clenched. He could make her come by looking at her right now. One one hand, she wanted release desperately. On the other hand, the build-up was delicious. She wanted to come with him inside her.

And then he was gone, off the bed. She twisted her head to watch him shuck his clothes in record time, then once again stretch out between her legs, his attention on her pussy.

"Don't make me come yet," she said.

He looked up the length of her body, his eyebrows raised. "Isn't that the point of this?"

"Not yet."

He rose over her, gloriously naked, his erection brushing over her thigh, hot and heavy. The t-shirt stretched as she twisted, wanting to touch him, to filter her fingers through his chest hair, to bring him over her. He lowered his mouth to hers and she met it eagerly, savoring his taste, the play of his tongue against hers, his blatant strokes. He rubbed his cock against her hip in rhythm to his kiss and she shifted, wanting to bring him into her.

Then he broke the kiss, backing away again, his hands on her hips.

"Turn over."

She blinked, and heat shot through her when she understood. He wanted to take her from behind. His hands would be free to touch her all over. But turning over without the use of her hands was harder than she thought, and she rolled without much grace, even with his help. She shifted forward on her knees so she could grab the headboard, relieving some of the stress on her wrists.

He leaned over her, his cock riding the cleft of her ass, and swept her hair over her shoulder, pressing soft kisses to the back of her neck, down her spine, his stubble adding a delicious counterpoint to his lips. When he reached the base of her spine, her pussy contracted, growing wetter. He continued his kisses over the curve of her body, to the crease of skin between ass and thigh, and he scraped his teeth against it. The sensation nearly shot her off the bed and she tightened her fingers in the headboard until the metal bit into her skin.

"Luke!"

The rip of foil sent a tremor through her, and then his heat returned against the back of her legs, one hand on her hip.

He entered her in one hard thrust, his groin slapping against her, and she screamed, part in shock, part in pleasure.

He stilled. "Okay?"

She could only manage to nod her head, and pushed back against him. God, he was so deep, so hard, filling her channel, filling her senses. He began to move again, slowly, stroking every inch of her, almost pulling out before easing in again. She clenched around him, wanting to hold him deep, wanting to feel him in every part of her body, wanting to feel every detail of his. He pulled out and pushed back in, his breathing growing heavy, his strokes coming faster, harder, and she met each one with a desperation of her own. She'd been so certain she'd come the minute he entered her, but he kept her off balance.

He reached around to pluck at her nipples. She straightened as much as she could to allow him access while her hips angled to bring him deeper.

"Harder," she gasped. "Please. Luke."

"Jesus, Kennedy," he managed, and pushed her forward, shoulders down, hips in the air, and pounded into her.

The orgasm twisted, a living thing inside her, tightening around every nerve in her before springing free, shooting through her blood, dancing over her skin, until she could feel only Luke's thrusts, hear his groan, feel him melt inside her.

They stayed on their knees for several minutes, shaking, before he withdrew, got the knife and sliced her free to fall to the bed beside him.

## CHAPTER NINE

Her wrists were chafed. Luke lightly stroked the skin as she slept, her hand on his chest, her face pressed against his side, under his arm. God knew, he hadn't meant to hurt her. He hadn't thought she'd pull against the t-shirt, hadn't thought the t-shirt would do any damage, but she'd stretched it all to hell in her excitement. The knots had been so tight he'd had to slice her free.

The experience had been sexy as hell, but he didn't want to leave marks on his woman.

_His woman_. The thought sent ice through his veins. She wasn't his woman. She was...what? She'd explained what had happened with her father last night, why she hadn't called him and Liam to say good-bye. And hell, it made sense. The old man always had more pride than sense, which was why Kennedy was in the state she was in.

So where did that leave him and Kennedy? He'd kept his anger as a wall between them, but the wall was crumbling. No reason to hold her off—not like he had, her in his bed and all—except he was in no position to have a woman. He had a house, but no furniture, no heat, and his means of support was shakier than her father's gambling. Hell, it was gambling to a certain extent.

He had nothing to offer her. He should send her on her way, but she had no place to go.

Beside him, she woke with an "umph," then stretched, her naked body sliding along his, causing the predictable reaction. She glided her palm across his chest, then down his belly, then propped her chin on his chest.

"Morning," she murmured.

Hard-on be damned, he wanted to get away from her, away from her sultry morning voice, her sexy hooded eyes, her knowing smile. Away from everything in him that made him want. Away from everything in him that could hurt her. He shifted toward the edge of the bed.

"About time you woke up. Let's go to town and get some breakfast."

She blinked and sat up, so sexy it made his teeth ache. Some of the relaxation left her face and she pushed her hair back and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

After cold showers—since there was no hot water heater—they climbed in the truck and drove into town.

For a Thursday morning, the little diner on the main drag was pretty busy. He parked the truck and they walked in silence to the door. Hell, the whole ride had been in silence. That meant something, right, if he couldn't even think of anything to say to her outside of bed? This wasn't a relationship if they couldn't talk. He held the door open so the chime overhead rang—not like anyone could hear it. All the tables were taken, and he convinced a farmer to slide over a stool so they could sit together at the counter. The farmer took one look at Kennedy, smiled and obliged.

As they sat on the cushioned vinyl stools, Luke caught himself looking at her reflection in the chrome behind the counter. She'd braided her dark hair, since it was still wet, in a thick plait that fell between her shoulder blades. She wore no make-up and her skin was a healthy color now, not as pale as she'd been the first night she'd come to him. Her eyes shone as she smiled at the waitress and some of the confidence she'd always carried had returned. He wasn't sure what to make of that.

His gaze fell to her wrists as she rested her arms on the counter. The chafing on her wrists seemed more pronounced in the florescent lights, and he winced, wanting to cover them.

"Are y'all new around here, or passing through?" the waitress, Jolene, asked as she stood before them, poised with an order pad.

"Luke has land near here, so we're spending a couple of days."

The farmer next to Kennedy perked up. "Land near here? Where are you?"

"Out Highway 90 a bit, closer to here than Seguin, off Farm Road 2091," Luke said.

"The old Evans place?"

Luke nodded, surprised the man reasoned it out so quickly.

"What are you going to do there?"

"Some cattle, some horses. Needs work first."

The older man nodded. "Empty a long time. Sad thing. Old man Evans had real pride there. He had a garden that could grow any damned thing, kept a couple of dairy cows in addition to his beef cattle. And could build anything you'd ever want."

Luke got the feeling he was being measured and found lacking in comparison. "I'm looking to build a corral and train rodeo stock."

"Luke rides for the rodeo now," Kennedy piped up. "A bulldogger."

The farmer's gaze slid over Luke's shoulders and chest, and Luke got the feeling he was thinking what Luke himself had just figured out—he was no better than a gambler, hoping his skill was enough but taking a chance every time he rode. When the waitress returned with their coffee, he saw something different in her eyes, the opposite of the farmer.

"I guess it's too much to hope she's your sister," Jolene said with a wink, motioning to Kennedy.

Luke smiled in return as he lifted the steaming cup to his lips. "Not my sister."

"Too bad," Jolene said, and sashayed off.

Luke glanced at Kennedy, who was grinning.

"Does that happen a lot?"

He lifted a shoulder. How was he supposed to answer that?

"How often do you take them up on it?" she pursued.

"Not as often as Liam."

"Well, Liam's a man-whore. So. You. How often?"

He turned his head to look at her. "You want a number?"

She hesitated. "I'll settle for an estimate."

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Come on."

"Why do you want to know?"

Again, she paused. "I don't know. I guess I never thought of your life like that before."

"You didn't think I got laid?"

"Maybe I didn't want to think about it," she said quietly, turning her attention to her own coffee.

Well, hell, what did _that_ mean? Women. He didn't get it.

Jolene didn't come back to get their order for awhile, the place was so busy, and his stomach growled, protesting the coffee on an empty stomach. When Jolene returned, she was harried and apologetic.

"Running me off my feet today," she said. "You decided?"

"Why are you by yourself when it's this busy?" Kennedy asked after she'd placed her order.

"I finally got Mark, the owner, to agree to hire another waitress. We just put the help-wanted sign in the window." She nodded toward the front door.

Kennedy straightened. "A breakfast waitress?"

"Mostly. Some evenings, too." Jolene angled her head. "You looking for a job?"

"I need a job," Kennedy replied, like she was testing the words.

"You ever waitress?"

"In college."

Jolene's eyes narrowed. "That doesn't look like it was too long ago."

"Almost ten years ago."

Jolene shrugged. "Not much has changed. Would he be coming in if you worked here?" She nodded her head toward Luke.

"He'll be heading out on the circuit soon."

Jolene pursed her lips. "I'll get you an application."

When she walked away, Luke leaned close. "What are you thinking?"

She squared her shoulders. "Okay, you might think I'm crazy, but what if I stay here? At your house? I could look after it, maybe do some stuff like paint or something, keep it mowed and cared for while you're on the road, and I could work here and save up some money? I know it's asking a lot of you, but I could do something."

"And how would you get to work? You don't have a car."

The light in her face dimmed. "I don't know—how far is it? Maybe I could get a bicycle or something."

"And if it rains you're screwed. Plus, I don't like the idea of you staying out there by yourself. And there's no hot water, remember." He shook his head and took another sip of his coffee.

The crowd was thinning out by the time their order came, and Jolene brought over the application.

Kennedy, who hadn't said anything since Luke shot down her idea, shook her head. "We can't figure out a way to make it work. Once Luke heads out, I won't have a car."

"I heard you say you live out at the old Evans place? My busboy lives out that way. He could give you a ride in."

Kennedy glanced uncertainly at Luke, and he looked toward the busboy, by the windows.

"This is a crazy idea, and you have a job at the rodeo."

"Until the end of the weekend," she reminded him. "Then I go with you and hope for another job, or go with Gary and have no place to stay."

He understood her concern, but for him to feel right about leaving her alone out at that house, a hell of a lot needed to be done today. He set his coffee down. "I guess our next stop is buying a hot water heater."

***

The water heater took much longer to install than either of them expected. Kennedy rocked on her heels anxiously as Luke stretched out on the kitchen floor, muttering curses as he worked to attach the device to the plumbing. She knew this wasn't what he'd planned to do today, and guilt gnawed at her for forcing him to change his plans, again.

"Really, I can do without hot water."

He grunted and continued working.

"At least tell me what to do."

He lifted his head from between the cabinet and the water heater and looked at her then. "Go play with your kittens and stop asking me that question."

"I just want to help."

"You standing there isn't helping. I got this." He turned his attention back to the pipes or plugs or whatever. "Go away."

Cautiously she backed away, not wanting to irritate him but wishing she could make the process easier. She walked out onto the porch and sat on the steps, the only place to sit . She dragged the box Luke had placed out here earlier. The mama cat jumped out, alarmed, and the kittens started mewling. She reached in the box and scooped out a pair, and then the other two, causing them to squeal in alarm, and the mama kitty hurried forward, meowing frantically. She put her front paws on Kennedy's thigh and sniffed her kittens, who had quieted as they rooted around on Kennedy's jeans. She leaned against the porch post and stroked her thumb over the little orange tabby's head.

What had she done here? She was going to live in a small, strange town in a house in the middle of nowhere. She didn't know a soul, didn't have a car. But she had a job, she had a place to stay, and while she was still beholden to Luke, she wouldn't be under his nose, causing him to snarl every five minutes.

It would be good. Terrifying, but good. She pet the mama kitty's head and listened to the steady stream of profanity from the kitchen.

***

There. It was done. He wouldn't have to worry about her taking cold showers in a cold house, and the farmer at the diner had said another cold front was coming in tonight. He climbed to his feet and walked to the sink, cranking on the water to wash his hands. The tank of the heater was still filling, so no hot water yet, but he got the blood off his knuckles, then dried his hands on a new kitchen towel she'd bought yesterday. He never would have thought to buy kitchen towels.

Though he knew he knew she was on the front porch, he walked out the side door to the truck. He pulled out the gun he'd stowed in the glove box when they'd gone into town. He strode around the side of the house, startling her and the mama cat.

"It's done. We're going to go shoot."

She picked up the kittens one by one and placed them back in the box before she scrambled to her feet, dusting off her ass. "What? Why?"

"I want to make sure you know what you're doing. I'll leave you this gun. Sleep with it by the bed and take it with you when you go around the place. Can't have you dying out here of snake bite."

She paled and gave a little shiver. He regretted his words, for a moment, anyway. He stroked his hand down her arm but he didn't think she was all that reassured. He picked up the bag of empty plastic bottles they'd planned to take back to the city to dispose of.

"What are those?"

"We can use them as targets. We'll put some dirt in the bottom so they don't blow over." He inclined his head toward the back of the house and tucked his hand against the small of her back to guide her.

Once he found a suitable background—lots of trees so they didn't accidentally shoot someone's livestock—he peeled off a couple of labels from the water bottles and stuck them to the tree trunk, using bits of bark to hold it in place. He walked back to her, drawing the gun from its holster, and handed it to her. She checked the load, then lifted the gun, sighted down the barrel, and fired. A chip of bark flew off the tree above and to the right of the label. Before he could step forward to help her correct, she fired again, more centered but still too high.

"Need to lower your sight," he said with a hand on her arm.

"Done that already," she muttered, and fired, catching the top right corner of the label.

Luke knew he shouldn't take her comment personally, but the accuracy of it stung. Of course she'd lowered her sights from being in television in Dallas to living in a rundown house and sleeping with a rodeo cowboy. Maybe she didn't mean it that way, probably didn't, since she was grateful to him and all. But he saw the truth in it, all the same.

She fired again, again too high, and he guided her hand down. She fired three times in rapid succession, obliterating the label. Lowering the gun to her side, she turned to face him.

"Satisfied?"

Pride was the only reason he could give for the surge of possessiveness that ran through him. He took the gun from her, his thumb tapping the safety only to find it already engaged. "Not nearly." He tucked the gun in the holster at his hip and hooked his hand behind her neck.

The kiss was harder than he intended, and she gave a little whimper, but then curved her hand around the back of his head and rose on her toes to return it. Her tongue battled with his, her teeth nipped his lower lip, and Jesus, he was hard in two seconds. Hard and aching and...

He cupped his hands under her ass and lifted her. She tried to wrap her legs around his hips, but...

"Gun," she said against his mouth. "Wait." She wriggled out of his grasp and lowered herself in front of him, unbuckling his belt, popping open the fly of his jeans. Gently she reached inside and drew his cock out.

He didn't realize he was holding his breath until she opened her mouth around him. He had to use every ounce of self-control not to push deeper into the wet heat as she bobbed her head, her lips meeting the hand she'd wrapped around the base of his shaft before pulling back slowly, excruciatingly, holy shit. She lifted her gaze to him, letting him know she knew exactly what she was doing. She repeated the motion, and all the blood left his head, rushing to get in on the fun in his dick. This time, she added a soft hum, then another slow stroke. Then, Christ, a quick one that had his knees buckling.

Her hand slipped from the base of his penis to his balls, and he widened his stance to feel her fingers playing over the sensitive skin in rhythm to her mouth's movements. Another quick bob, and she cupped his balls, tight with anticipation. But he didn't want to come yet, wanted to savor the sensation of her hot mouth and clever tongue and magic fingers.

She drew back a bit and flicked her tongue beneath the head, back and forth, dragging a groan from his throat. He unfisted his hand and placed it on the top of her head, urging her to take him deeper, deeper.

All it took was one more caress and his self-control disintegrated. The orgasm ripped through him, and he came hard, feeling her swallow as he poured into her mouth in hot pulses, making him as weak as a newborn colt.

She waited until he pulled out before she sat back on her heels, looking damned pleased with herself. He hooked his hands under her arms and dragged her to her feet, covering her mouth in a long, hot kiss. He skimmed his hand down her belly and into the waistband of her jeans, thinking to repay the favor, but she pulled away, a teasing smile on her lips.

"You mentioned earlier that you wanted me to learn how to drive the tractor," she reminded him, walking backwards toward the barn. "We're losing daylight."

The last thing he wanted to do was to teach her how to drive the tractor. He wanted her naked in his bed for the next however-many hours until he left her out here.

***

The cold front blew in while he was showing her how to operate the tractor, how to shift, how to raise and lower the shredder, how to fill it with gas. Kennedy shivered against the sudden chill as the wind hit her skin, as the sky darkened overhead.

From his place on the running board, Luke cast a concerned glance toward the sky and reached across her to turn on the engine. "Better take it in."

She closed her fingers around the steering wheel. "You trust me to drive it when you're not here, I can drive it when you are."

He lifted his hands in surrender and dropped to the ground. Getting the vehicle in gear was a little effort, and she started off with a jerk, but got the tractor into the barn and the barn doors closed and locked—easier since they cut the grass. When she turned, Luke was standing just where she'd left him, watching her. She trotted back over, hoping to snuggle into his chest for warmth, but he stepped aside.

"Go on in. I need to take care of some things."

She frowned, looking at his own thin t-shirt, but hurried into the house.

She was setting out the sandwich supplies when he came inside. The temperature inside had already dropped significantly, and she'd put on her hoodie against the chill. He scowled when he saw.

"It's too cold for you to stay here. Radio said it was going to get into the thirties tonight, forties tomorrow. This place isn't going to keep you warm."

Her chest seized. Would he send her away, in the name of keeping her safe? "I'll be fine. I have layers. I'll be heading into the cafe tomorrow, and the bed is plenty warm."

"I should've at least gotten you a space heater. I didn't think of that."

"I'll. Be. Fine." She rounded the counter to lean into his chest. "But I wouldn't object to you warming me up."

Something flashed in his eyes, but again, he stepped aside, confusing her.

"Starving," he said, shoving his hand in the open bag of chips.

But later that night, when it was dark, the wind howling, the warmest place was in bed. He gave her a pair of his socks to wear with her sweatpants and hoodie, and pulled her against his chest, curving his body around her.

In only a matter of moments, she felt him grow hard against her ass, and bumped back against him in invitation, unsure of how he'd react since he seemed to be doing his best to avoid touching her all evening. He tightened his arm around her and pressed his head deeper into the pillow, making no move.

So she wriggled again. He placed his hand on her hip as if to still her, but then his fingers flexed and he turned her onto her back, rising over her in the same movement. In the dim light from the hall, she could see a glint in his eyes, but he said nothing as he lowered his mouth to hers, his kiss slow, sultry, perfect.

She arched against him, making a soft sound in her throat, winding her arms around his neck as he rocked his hips against hers. He coursed his hands up her sides to caress her breasts through her sweatshirt, then back down to shove at her pants, peeling them down her legs. The sound of tearing foil was her only warning before he angled his hips and entered her.

She gasped against his mouth as he slid into her in short strokes, deeper each time, not saying a word as he lifted hie head to look down at her, one hand braced on her pillow, the other at her side. He was gentle, but didn't touch her, didn't say a word. Somehow his silence made her hotter, wetter, and his thrusts grew faster, his breath more ragged. She wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing him deeper, angling so his groin pressed against her swelling clit with each drive. She circled her hips and met his thrusts, until finally he cupped her ass in one hand, holding her as he fucked her, the wet sounds filling the room, the scent of their bodies filling her senses. She was excited but nowhere close to coming, and his thrusts were more erratic. He was going to come without her.

Just when she was certain of it, he shifted his hand on her ass, his thumb sliding down the cleft to rest against her opening, stroking so lightly that she didn't see the orgasm coming until it hit her with the force of a freight train, carrying her off the bed and against him, her body clasping greedily until she felt the pulses of his own climax.

He held himself over her for a moment, trembling on his arms, then withdrew, pulled up her pants and collapsed beside her, his arm over his eyes, all without a word.

## CHAPTER TEN

Four weeks later

Luke drove through downtown Gonzales heading out to his land. He'd stopped in front of the diner, but Kennedy hadn't been working. He hadn't gone in, but where else would she be but at the house?

He wouldn't relax until he saw she was safe and sound and warm.

Well, he didn't have to worry about the last part. It was March now, and he drove with the windows down, even thought about running the air conditioning as he turned onto the gravel road.

The neatly trimmed gravel road. Both the grass and trees had been cut back, making the place look—lived in.

He'd left her in the morning four weeks ago, before she'd awakened. He'd put five hundred dollars—all he'd been able to get out of the ATM—with a note that she should spend it on living expenses, and one of those cellphones that didn't need a contract. He hadn't called her on it, tempted though he'd been to check up on her. He just—couldn't. Maybe that made him an idiot, but it wouldn't be the first time.

He slowed as he approached the house, the neat grass along the road and the side of the barn. He braked behind another truck in the road, just before his attention was captured by movement near the barn.

As he watched, Kennedy sashayed from the barn, ponytail swinging, long bare legs in denim cut-offs eating up the ground. Behind her bounded a gray kitten. She hadn't noticed him yet, and called to someone on the porch. He shifted to see a man on a ladder who twisted to look over his shoulder at her. Jealousy tightened Luke's gut at the grin the man gave her, and her answering one. Who was this guy, and just how well did he know Kennedy?

What the hell was wrong with him that it took him until now notice his own house? The windows had been reframed and—were those curtains blowing in the windows? The screened windows? And...plants on the front porch? He shut off the engine and opened the truck door, and finally she noticed him.

Her whole face lit up and she called his name as she ran toward him. He'd barely braced himself before she launched herself at him, wrapping her legs around him and covering his mouth with hers.

She tasted like sunshine and freshly mown grass and springtime and home, damn it. Part of him wanted to push her away, but a bigger part, the part that had dreamed about her every night, had him reaching for her every morning, pulled her closer, his hand over her ass. He heard a man's voice, then another, teasing by the tone, but he ignored them and marched into the house with her still wrapped around him.

He closed the door but it popped open again with a bounce, so he used a firmer hand, turning her and pressing her against it. She laughed and nuzzled her face against his neck.

"You aren't serious."

"Sh."

Using his body, he pinned her to the wall and slid his hands under the hem of her shorts and panties, over the curve of her ass. He stroked his fingertips over the soft smooth skin and pushed aside the image of any other man touching her. He pressed his hips forward, between her legs, and she moaned. The sound shot straight to his cock, which ached with the need to be inside her. He reached between them to yank at the button of her waistband, peeling open her zipper, sliding his hand inside to find her hot and wet. She squirmed against his questing fingers, panting with need.

He pulled his hand free and lowered her legs to the floor. "Take them off."

"The bed—" she managed.

"Here." He opened his pants and stroked his cock, already hard as stone.

Her gaze widened as she saw how ready he was, and she shoved the shorts down her legs. She'd barely stepped out of them before he lifted her again. The shorts caught on one foot and he could feel them against his ass before they dropped to the floor—and he thrust inside her.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as the muscles of her pussy squeezed around him, accommodating him, as her wet heat registered—he wasn't wearing a condom.

And he wasn't stopping now. Jesus, it felt like heaven, the slickness of her body, the skin-on-skin contact. He drew out and plunged back in, drawing a sigh from her that gusted against his throat. He lifted her ass, angling her so he could go deeper, harder, lose himself in her. God, he'd missed her.

As he fucked her, she clutched at his shoulders, nipped at his throat with her lips and teeth, fueling his need. With each slam of his body against hers, she grew wetter. She wriggled against him, her movements limited, but her need clear. As much as he hated leaving her body, he withdrew and lowered to his knees. She gave a strangled kind of cry when he flicked his tongue over her clit, then parted her wider for his mouth. As horny as he was, he couldn't resist drawing out her pleasure, toying with her clit before dipping inside her, his fingers playing along the flesh between her channel and rosebud. The muscles of her thighs tightened, her keening cries grew louder, and he took mercy on her, stroking her clit with lightning speed, two fingers hooking inside her.

She came with a moan that damn near rattled the windows—which were open, he recalled as he straightened and plunged inside her again.

Oh, yes, the ripples of her orgasm felt amazing along the length of his shaft, squeezing, stroking. And he couldn't hold back, hammering into her over and over, watching her face as she rode the remnants of her climax, her eyes half-lidded, her lips parted, her head tilted back so her hair fell along his arm. All of that, all of that combined to carry him over the edge, the orgasm tearing through him like a goddamned hurricane, and he emptied into her.

He held her against the door for a moment longer, his body pinning her, unable to move, his legs shaking.

A giggle, a little breeze of air against his neck, a little quiver running through Kennedy, snapped him back to reality. He pulled back, sliding out of her body—Christ, he hadn't used a condom and was slick with her juices, with his own come. He waited for the terror, the fear that she could get pregnant, to sink in, but it didn't come. Instead, a strange kind of pride filled him, and _that_ was scary.

He made sure she was steady on her feet and fastened his pants quick, before the sight of her half-naked, tousled and shaky from the orgasm he'd given her gave his dick more idiotic ideas. She pulled up her shorts and pushed her hair out of her face—when had it fallen out of its ponytail?—and looked up at him. Another giggle rippled through her, and damn it, she blushed as she looked past him to the open window.

Well, hell. He'd forgotten about their visitors. No doubt they'd gotten an earful, and even if they hadn't... He felt his own ears burn.

Which made Kennedy giggle more. Then she took his hand and led him further into the house.

He shook off his post-climax haze—how could she be so clear-headed after what they'd just done?—when they walked into the kitchen. The peeling linoleum was gone, the wood floors bare and sanded.

"I thought I'd better wait to refinish them until I talked to you. It's a lot of work, and I didn't want to do something you didn't want done."

He acknowledged that with a grunt, noting that she'd done a thorough job—even the bits by the cabinets were prepared.

And the cabinets themselves had been sanded, all the thick paint gone, leaving a vintage look that he considered keeping. The wallpaper was gone, too, the walls smooth beneath. And she had a kitchen table sitting in the curve of the window. A dorm-sized refrigerator was on the counter.

"When did you have the time to do all of this? Haven't you been working at the diner?"

"Sure, but when I'm here there's nothing else to do. And I owe you for letting me stay here. Come on, let me show you the bedroom."

It, too, had been sanded and de-wallpapered, and the walls were splotchy with spackle.

"I actually bought paint for in here, but didn't have the courage to use it without your say-so. It's a really beautiful blue that I think would look pretty with white trim. Very peaceful." She released his hand and walked over to paint samples taped to the wall. "See? This one. It looks really pretty when the sun shines through."

She had curtains on this window, too, the window open, a new screen. And beside the bed was a table with a lamp, and a well-worn paperback.

"Where did you get the furniture?" he asked as they made their way back to the kitchen.

"Jolene at the diner let me have it. She said it had just been in storage, so I was welcome to whatever I needed. I tried not to take advantage." She gave him a sideways look. "Is that okay?"

He wasn't sure. "And the guys outside working? Friends of yours?"

She frowned then. "It's the bus boy Andrew and his brother Aaron. They've taken out the windows, rebuilt the frames and put them back in."

"And those shorts? You wear them for their entertainment?"

Her frown deepened and she looked down at her legs. "It's been warm, I cut off a pair of my jeans. I'm not wearing them for anyone."

"You look like that, they might think they're going to get some pussy if they help out."

Her eyes widened and she stepped back. "Why? Because you did? You gave me a place to stay so I put out? Is that why you think I've been sleeping with you?"

Goddamnit. He'd gone and done it now, pissed her off. He didn't know how to rein in his jealousy. He knew she hadn't slept with anyone else, not the way she greeted him.

"And what about you?" She shoved at his chest. "Did you sleep with any buckle bunnies when you were gone? How do I know you didn't fuck around?"

He took a step toward her. "Because I wasn't home five minutes before I was inside you." And Christ, he wanted to be in her again.

Something flashed in her eyes, and her nostrils flared. He knew her well enough to know she was turned on.

"I thought you were laying claim."

"That, too." He dragged her against him and slammed his mouth over hers.

She didn't pull away, instead curled her fingers through the hair at the back of his head, tugging, punishing. Her teeth scraped his lower lip and she nipped at his tongue even as she rubbed her breasts against his chest and grabbed his cock through his jeans.

"This time, scream my name," he said against her mouth, his hand between them on her cunt before he popped the button open and slid the shorts down. He turned her around so she faced the counter, fingers splayed. He teased her entrance with his finger. "Jesus, you're so wet already." He drew some of her cream back to her rosette, swirled until she bucked, moaning. Then he unfastened his own jeans and bending his knees, plunged into her pussy.

Her muscles clenched around him, hard, as he went balls-deep, his hips slapping against her gorgeous ass, her channel so slick, so hot, so welcoming. He braced his hands beside hers on the counter, thrusting, letting her grind back against him, as hungry, as eager as he was. He slipped one hand between her legs and found her clit swollen and hard. No sense in building anticipation. He raced straight to fulfillment, circling her nub as she moved into his touch, flexing her hips against his fingers, squeezing her inner muscles around him, hungry, desperate. Then she grabbed his hand and held it still against her, pumping against it. He struggled to stay inside her as she sought her pleasure, then found it, grinding back against him, taking him so deep as she pulsed around him. The shaky cry that was his name echoed in the empty house as her orgasm bathed him in more cream and he thrust harder into her spasming body before his balls tightened and released, sending hot jets into her body.

He leaned against her for a second, but she was the one to pull away.

"Maybe at some point we can take all our clothes off and maybe do it in a bed," she said, moving toward the sink with her shorts still around her knees.

He should be grateful she thought there would be a next time, after the way he treated her. He zipped his own pants and watched as she washed up and pulled up her shorts.

"How long are you here?" she asked, turning toward him as she dried her hands on a towel.

"A week before Corpus."

She nodded. "There's a barbecue tonight for the volunteer fire department. I said I'd go."

"Okay."

"Do you want to come with me, or do you have work you need to do?"

The brightness she'd greeted him with was gone. He'd damaged her, either with his words or the way he'd taken her, so selfishly.

"I'd like to come."

Some of the joy returned to her expression. "Good. There are people you should meet. Your neighbors. They're curious about you."

## CHAPTER ELEVEN

She wore a pretty white sundress that left her shoulders bare and flowed around her knees. For once, Luke tamped down his desire as he watched her move through the crowd, visiting with one group, then another. How many people did she know, anyway? She'd only been here a month. But being a waitress at the busy diner, he supposed, had its benefits. She tugged him along behind her, introducing him to people, telling him what they did or where they lived.

"I'm never going to remember all these people," he muttered as she dragged him to another group.

"Not in one night. But you can take me to work tomorrow, have some breakfast, visit, get to know them."

"It's not as easy for me as it is for you."

"You have to make an effort if this is going to be your home."

But it seemed to him, it was more her home. He felt like the intruder in her life instead of the other way around. She'd spent the last month sleeping in his bed, fixing up his house, meeting his neighbors. He couldn't help resenting it a little.

"There's the sheriff," she said, and tugged him in that direction.

She greeted the man in the faded denim shirt and jeans with a kiss on the cheek, and the man, a little older, maybe early forties—rested his hand on her waist. Luke swallowed his jealousy, his initial reaction to the man's casual embrace. Would he ever see her with a man and not seize up? But when the man raised his eyes to Luke, he saw this time his jealousy had basis.

Kennedy stepped back and Luke looped his own hand around her waist. She relaxed into his side.

"Sheriff Tandy, this is Luke, my—" She hesitated. "I'm living at his house."

"Ah, the rodeo cowboy." The sheriff extended a hand, and Luke had to release Kennedy momentarily. "In town long?"

"Just the week. You know Kennedy from the diner, or has she been getting in some kind of trouble?" His attempt at a grin felt stiff.

The sheriff shifted his attention to Kennedy and smiled. "No trouble, unless you count her slowing down traffic on that bike she's been riding."

Luke angled his head to look down at her. "What bike?"

She waved a hand. "Jolene had a bike in storage and I thought I'd ride it to the diner on days when Andrew's off work."

"It's a long way."

"Tell me about it." She rubbed her thigh through her skirt. "But I'm getting used to it."

"I came upon her the other day huffing and puffing up a hill, and three cars on the road behind her, unable to pass," the sheriff said. "I drove her the rest of the way into town, but the girl needs a car."

"We'll work on that this weekend." Luke had already decided to find her something—he was sick of being worried about the weather, about an accident, about her being stranded. But it didn't sit well with him that the sheriff was telling him what to do.

"No, Luke, you've already done enough," she protested quietly.

"And you've worked on my house, way more than I expected. Consider it payment."

She made a face he couldn't interpret, then made her excuses from the sheriff and led Luke off.

"I don't expect you to buy me a car."

"I know you don't. But I've been concerned about you being out there in the middle of nowhere without one. We'll find something. Maybe Jolene has something in her storage shed."

She twisted to look up at him. "Did you just make a joke? You, Luke Delaney?"

"I've been known to, once or twice."

"I don't believe that." She stepped away, taking his hand and leading him toward the makeshift dance floor, packed earth in front of the stage. "Dance with me."

He drew back. "I was under the impression we'd come here to eat barbecue." He inclined his head toward the metal building that housed the buffet line.

"Fine. I'll feed you. But then we'll dance."

***

"What was I thinking, wearing a white dress to a barbecue?" she lamented as they walked up the steps to the porch, under the new porch light Andrew had installed a few days ago. She plucked the dress away from her boob, where a big glob of barbecue sauce had landed.

"I offered to lick it off for you." Luke swung the door open and motioned for her to precede him.

"Oh, wow, two jokes in one night." She passed him and headed for the kitchen sink and leaned over, dousing the stain with dish detergent and scrubbing at it it the dish cloth. "Maybe you can moonlight at a comedy club."

"Turn around."

She snapped her head up, his voice so close behind, and met his gaze in the reflection of the kitchen window over the sink. She turned and handed over the wash cloth.

"You just want to touch my boob."

"Yup." But instead of groping, he slipped his fingers inside the top of the dress, enough to hold it away from her skin as he scrubbed. He frowned. "I don't think it's going to come out. Why don't you take it off? We'll get some bleach or something in the morning and take it to the laundry place."

Kennedy swallowed her frustration. It wasn't his fault she'd wanted to look pretty for him tonight and wore the only dress she had, one she found on the new arrival rack at Walmart in Seguin when she went with Jolene one time. She'd thought the color so romantic and fresh, and it had fit like a dream. Here's what her pride got her.

Okay, maybe that was melodramatic. She had Luke bending over her, trying to clean her dress. She put her hand over his.

"We'll worry about it tomorrow. Take me to bed."

His nostrils flared and he snapped his gaze to hers.

"Naked this time. Both of us." She reached behind her for the button at the back of her neck and let the strap fall loose as she edged toward the bedroom. "I want to feel your skin against mine."

"Jesus, Kennedy."

She turned and led the way down the hall, holding her breath so she could hear him follow. He caught her as she stepped through the doorway of the bedroom, drew her against his chest and lowered his mouth to the curve of her shoulder.

"Been driving me crazy all night, seeing your skin, wanting to taste you."

"You've tasted me plenty."

He spun her around and dragged her hips against his. "Not nearly enough."

She gasped when he burrowed his head against the curve of her throat, his stubble rasping the sensitive skin, his tongue soothing it. Heat flooded her, firing her blood, making her panties wet and her breasts ache.

Needing to feel him against her, she reached between them for the buttons of his shirt, made quick work of them despite her shaking fingers, and glided her hands over his soft chest hair. She guided his hands to the zipper at the back of her dress, and in seconds the fabric pooled at her waist. She pressed her breasts into the heat of his body. The way his chest hair abraded her hard nipples made her skin tingle all over, made her pussy swell and pout with longing.

But she was calling the shots tonight, and she was going to have her seduction. She stepped out of his arms long enough to skim out of her skirt and panties, then reached for his belt. He let her undress him, helping only when she reached his boots. Then they were naked, facing each other, his cock hard and aimed right at her. Her mouth watered a little with the desire to taste him. Maybe later. Now she moved toward the clock radio beside the bed.

"You owe me a dance," she said, flipping it on and twisting the dial until she found a suitable song, one that would bring his body right up against hers. She settled on an old ballad and returned to stand before him.

His gaze traveled the length of her body. "This might be the shortest dance on record."

"I'm fine with that." She looped her hand around the back of his neck and pushed her breasts against his chest, his cock resting against her belly, hot and hard. He huffed out a breath and rested his hand at the small of her back, taking her other hand in his. "This is why you wanted to dance with me in the first place, isn't it? To rub all up against me?"

He maneuvered her in an awkward two-step, not the easiest dance when parts were loose. "This is why I didn't want to dance with you. Didn't want to meet all the neighbors with a hard-on."

She angled her hips to said hard-on, letting her pubic hair tangle with his, and her clit swelled, eager for some contact. His eyes darkened as he looked down at her.

"I can smell you. Are you trying to drive me crazy?"

She grinned. "An added bonus."

He flattened his hand against the small of her back so she was against his erection, her pussy lips parting over it, slicking it with every step he took. Arousal made her dizzy, and as if he knew, he spun her around, toward the bed, and dropped her onto it, following her down. He braced his weight on one arm and lowered his head to kiss her mouth, at once demanding and sweet. He glided his hand down over her breast, pinching the nipple and rolling it between his fingers before coasting down her waist, his touch almost ticklish. He closed his hand firmly under her thigh and lifted her leg, spreading her enough to push his cock against her entrance.

"Condom," she reminded him.

He grunted. "I didn't use one earlier."

"And I could be pregnant, or I could not be. But I can barely take care of myself, Luke. Please."

He hesitated, looking like he was going to say something else, but rolled away to get a condom from the drawer. When he returned, she rewarded him by spreading her legs wide and angling her hips so he could look at her, see how turned on she was. He looked long enough for her to feel her own wetness dripping into the crease of her thighs. He bent his head and blew lightly against her skin, making her clit spasm, then he rose over her and drove into her.

The orgasm was instantaneous and unexpected, his cock rubbing against her slick sensitive walls, his groin flush against her eager clit. The climax rolled through her in relentless waves, each thrust of his body igniting a new sensation as she clutched at him, both with her hands and her pussy. He chuckled when she melted beneath him, spent, but he continued the same rhythm, slow, languid, but each finishing with a deep, hard thrust. She let her fingertips float over his back, feeling the muscles contract, and striving to meet his strokes. He lifted himself higher, holding his weight on one hand, and curved his hand around her ass, his callused fingers parting the crease there and gliding over her puckered hole.

The lust that shot through her shocked her, and she wriggled away from his touch. "Not that."

"You liked it. I felt you squeeze me. And Christ, Kennedy, you're so wet." He repeated the caress and this time she bucked against him. "Could you come again? With me doing this?"

Just the idea of what he was doing had her channel flooding, had wetness coating his fingers. "Not inside," she managed, pushing her clit against his groin.

"Okay," he said, and began to move in his slow way, his fingers stroking from her vagina to her—she couldn't even think it, but it felt so good, so good, and her clit was hard, and when he was flush against her....

This time the waves took her under, tumbling her around, taking her breath, swamping her with pleasure. Her pussy clamped hard on his cock and he pushed deep, letting her rub her clit against him, letting her squeeze him, milk him, before he hammered into her, chasing his own orgasm.

He held himself over her for a long time before he stopped pulsing inside her and withdrew.

"Every dance we had ended like that," he said with a grunt as he flopped onto his back, "And I'd dance with you every night."

## CHAPTER TWELVE

Luke wasn't really a breakfast person, but since he was taking Kennedy to the diner anyway, he may as well spend some time getting to know the people in town. And the hardware store wouldn't open for awhile anyway, so no sense in driving home, then back into town later to get what he needed.

Besides, he wanted to see Kennedy in her element.

He sat at the counter while she wrapped her apron around her hips and went to work, sliding a cup of coffee in front of him before heading to the tables, coffee pot in hand, smile on her face. And it was a genuine smile, too. She really seemed to like her job. This was the most relaxed he'd seen her since before she graduated college. She was happy here, now, like she'd been when he'd fallen for her those years ago.

He wondered if that other job in Dallas had really been who she was, or just who she thought she should be. She hadn't spoken of it since she'd been with him, so he didn't know if she missed it. But watching her now, this was who she was. Maybe she just needed to hit rock bottom to find her joy again.

She seemed to know everyone, and part of him resented that, that she was enjoying his house, his town, when he was off working, but then the fair part of him remembered all the work she'd done on the house. The snarly part of him thought she'd done too much, placed her stamp on it, and he'd never be able to erase her. The reasonable part watched her laugh with a couple of old farmers, thought about her flitting around the barbecue last night, thought about her in his arms last night, and wondered why the hell he'd want to erase her.

_Because you can't take care of her_. If she stayed with him, he'd have nothing more to offer her than her father had. All it took was one wrong fall from his horse and he'd be broke. He'd have the house and land, because he'd paid for it outright, but he wouldn't have much else.

"She's something, isn't she?" Jolene's voice jolted him out of his melancholy. "All it takes is a friendly smile and a toss of her head and she gets money out of these old skinflints like no one I've ever seen."

"Looks like she's good at what she does."

Jolene cast a sharp look at him. "Don't sound so surprised."

"Let's just say this wasn't how she saw her life."

"Yeah, well, I think she's fine with it now."

And she was. He watched her laugh with her customers, with Jolene, kissed her good-bye when the hardware store opened, and when he returned to pick her up at the end of her shift, she was chatty about the events of the day.

"Did the sheriff come by?"

She blinked. "He always does. Why?"

"Maybe I can make a point of being there when he's there."

She shifted on the seat, drawing her knee up between them. "Luke Delaney, are you jealous?"

He snorted. "Just want him to understand, is all."

"Understand what, exactly? Do you think I won't make him understand?"

"Seemed to me you weren't too aware of it last night when you kissed his cheek and let him put his hands on you."

She blushed and looked down at her hands. "Honestly? I wasn't. But I can take care of myself, you know. I can protect my own virtue, and...whatever this is." She flipped a finger between them.

He turned onto the gravel road and breathed out a sigh of relief that she didn't ask him to define just what "this" was.

***

The next week they fell into a routine. He'd drop her off at work, eat breakfast at the diner, getting to know his neighbors at her urging. He'd go home to work on the house—his priorities had changed since Kennedy came into his life—then come back to the diner, eat again, run any errands, and head back to the house. Despite working all morning and part of the lunch shift, she had plenty of energy to paint the bedroom, scrape the wallpaper off the bathroom walls, help him put up Sheetrock, and worked on staining the kitchen floor, even one day shopping for a used car. Then they'd eat supper on the picnic table he'd built out of scrap wood from the barn, out on the porch. He planned to make her a porch swing before he left.

And every night they'd make love. Every night it got better, every night he wanted her more.

Every night brought him closer to leaving her again.

He stretched out on his side watching her sleep. He wasn't sure when it had stopped being just sex. Was it watching her tease old farmers into a smile, or watching her sitting on the counter in his kitchen, having painted herself in a corner? Maybe it was watching her lift her face to the breeze as they sat on the porch watching the sun set behind the hills, or listening to her whistle while she slopped blue paint on his bedroom walls. Or when she'd sucked a breath through her teeth when he pulled yet another splinter from her palm. But holy shit, he was in love with her.

And he couldn't do anything about it until he had something to offer her.

He rolled onto his back and stared at the newly-painted ceiling. If only he could do well in Corpus, he could set some of that money aside, have some kind of security for her so she'd never have to worry about her future again.

***

"Wake up."

Kennedy squeezed her eyes shut tighter against the sunlight. "It's my day off."

"I know, but I've got to go."

Her eyes popped open then. He was already dressed, and from the smell of him, freshly showered. She hadn't even felt him get out of bed.

She'd dreaded this day, when he left for Corpus, after the perfect week they'd had. And the Corpus rodeo was two weeks, if he did well. Part of her wanted him to come back before, but he wanted to win. He deserved to win.

She rolled over and looped her arms around his neck. "Good luck."

"Get out of bed. I want you to see something."

After a long stretch, she threw back the covers and padded behind him through the house and onto the front porch.

A green wooden porch swing hung from the roof of the porch on shiny new chains. It faced the west, so she could sit and watch the sun set.

"When did you do this?" she asked, running her hand over the smooth wood before sitting on it and drawing her bare legs up beneath her t-shirt.

"When you were at work. I replaced the old hooks yesterday and hoped you wouldn't notice, then got the swing hung this morning."

She lifted her gaze to him and saw something she never saw in Luke's face. Uncertainty. "I love it."

"Big enough for both of us when I get back."

Her chest clutched. It wasn't a proposal, but it was a declaration that he wanted her here when he returned. She unfolded her legs and wrapped her arms around him.

He didn't leave for another hour.

***

The bell over the door in the diner rang. Kennedy turned from getting her order and almost dropped the plates to the floor. Her father's lawyer Steven Jarvis walked through the door, looking out of place in his white shirt and tie among all the plaid shirts and t-shirts in the diner.

He sat at the counter, where she rested her two plates, trying to maintain her grip in her shock.

"You are very hard to track down. We need to talk."

She couldn't make her mouth work for a few moments. "Let me get these out, then I'll see if I can take a break."

She hurried down the counter and over to a booth in the corner, where Mr. Evans and Mr. Harvey were sitting.

"That an old boyfriend?" Mr. Harvey asked, narrowing his eyes at Steven.

"My father's estate lawyer."

"Even worse."

She couldn't deny that. She lingered as long as she could, going from table to table, dreading what Steven could possibly tell her—that her father owed even more money than they'd thought? That she was responsible for his debts now?

Finally she wandered back over and saw Jolene had given him a cup of coffee. His shoulders were tense, which meant he was impatient. She knew that well enough from all the meetings they'd had on how to handle her father's estate.

"What is it?"she asked.

He glanced around. "Is there some place we can talk that's more private?"

"Not during breakfast rush." She thought about telling him to come back in an hour, but her curiosity couldn't hold out that long. She'd already imagined all the worst possible things he could tell her.

"I didn't think a town this size would have a breakfast rush. How did you end up here, anyway?"

"Long story." She wanted to know how he'd managed to track her down, but first she wanted to know. "What are you doing here?"

"In the course of closing your father's estate, we found some things that belonged to your mother."

"My mother." The woman had died when Kennedy was in first grade. She could barely remember her.

"She had a safety deposit box with jewelry and bonds, and a life insurance policy marked for you."

She needed to sit down but there was no place behind the counter. "What?"

"Almost ten thousand dollars for you."

Shock bolted through her, weakening every muscle, made spots swim before her eyes before she could focus again. "Why didn't he tell me about the money?" She'd been with him there, constantly at the end.

"The paperwork was in your mother's things. He may well not have known about it. She may have been aware of his gambling problem even then and wanted to keep something aside for you, something he couldn't touch. You can get a new start, a new life."

A new life. She'd tried that before, once by choice, once by necessity. Did she really want to start again? She had a job she enjoyed—though she never would have thought so a year ago—friends, and a man who made a porch swing for her.

A man she wasn't ready to walk away from.

"When do I get the money?"

"It's taken me so long to track you down, the money's already in the bank."

She glanced at the clock, her mind already spinning. What did this mean? And what would she do with ten thousand dollars?

## CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Luke tightened his knees on Rocky's sides and tried to even out his breathing as they waited in the chute. Rocky shifted beneath him, anxious to be off. Then the barrier broke and Rocky bolted forward of his own volition as Luke kept his eye on the young steer.

Within seconds, he was where he wanted to be. He leaned over, gripped one of the steer's horns, wrapped his elbow around the other and let himself be pulled from the saddle and onto the slowing animal. He hit a little higher than he wanted, his ribs striking the steer's shoulder, and he had to struggle for breath as his hands closed around the short horns and twisted. The animal slowed, turned, but Luke's rhythm was off. Wheezing, he dug his heels into the dirt and dragged the beast down. He felt the moment all four legs were off the ground, and struggled to his feet, only slightly aware of the roar of the crowd. He knew already his time sucked. He wasn't finishing in the money tonight, unless, by some miracle, the other competitors screwed up.

He staggered to the chute, letting one of the handlers fetch Rocky. Bending to scoop his hat off the ground took the last of his energy. He looked up, his vision wavering, and could have sworn he saw Kennedy standing next to Liam.

In a moment, his brother was beside him, ducking under his arm on his good side and guiding him out of the arena. And then a soft hand on his cheek. He turned, his eyes focusing on Kennedy. Really here, not an illusion. He unlooped his arm from around his brother's shoulders and grabbed her, pulling her against his good side and kissing her until he really was out of breath.

"You taste good," he said, drawing back, his hand still hooked around the back of her neck, his fingers tangled in her hair.

"Okay, Romeo, you need to sit down." Liam dragged his brother to a nearby bench and dropped him on it. "Kennedy, go get the medic."

Luke shook his head and leaned forward to watch Kennedy go. "I just knocked the wind out of me."

"You hit that son of a bitch hard."

"What is she doing here?" He turned to look up at his brother.

"She came to see me ride. What the hell do you think? Take off your shirt."

Luke scowled at his brother.

"Do as he says," a pretty blonde ordered, preceding Kennedy, carrying a medical bag.

Liam straightened, and Kennedy hovered as the blonde crouched before him, pushing aside the fabric of his shirt to reveal one hell of a bruise blossoming. Her fingers were light, damn near ticklish as she examined him. He looked at Kennedy, whose eyes narrowed as the other woman touched him. Jealous? Why did that send a spike of pleasure through him?

"Looks like you have to be on top tonight," he teased.

Her concerned frown melted into a smile. "You must be hurt. You hate it when I'm on top."

"Honey, I never hate it when I'm in bed with you. Or on the counter, or against the wall..."

"Doc, you'd better check for a head injury," Kennedy said, not looking away.

The medic sat back on her heels. "His ribs may be cracked, not broken. I'd like to wrap them just to be safe, and you need an x-ray before you ride again."

"This is the last night and I don't head for California for another week. I'll be fine."

He buttoned his shirt, waited for the young medic to rise before he did himself, with more effort than he cared to admit. He was grateful Kennedy didn't rush to his side, instead just took his hand and let him set the pace.

"I didn't even see my time," he admitted.

"Three point eight," Liam volunteered.

Luke twisted toward his brother in surprise. "Really? Felt lot longer than that."

"So maybe we should wait to see if you're in the money," Kennedy said. "And then I'll take you to get something to eat."

He looked down at her curiously. Something was different about her and he couldn't put his finger on it. "Deal," was all he said.

She joined him at the rail, by his bad side. He wondered at the protective stance as they watched a replay of his run. He winced as the tape showed him hit the steer wrong. Kennedy laced her fingers through his as he catalogued his mistakes, then watched the next rider take off out of the chute, missing his steer altogether.

The next rider never got off his horse as the steer balked and backed toward the chute. Luke glanced at the scoreboard. Already Patrick Higgins was ahead of him, with a time of three point four. And there were three more riders. He could be knocked out of the top three easily. He tensed at the knowledge. He knew better than to spend money before he had it, but that didn't stop him from planning what he'd do with his next paycheck. This one was going to go into repairs on the barn.

The next rider took down his animal with a time that put him in third place behind Luke. Two more.

Garrett Hughes beat both he and Higgins with a time of three and three tenths. Finally Armando Hinojosa, the last rider, was mounted and ready. Luke watched on the big screen over the arena so he could watch the ride and keep track of the time. Hinojosa broke the barrier and barreled after the steer, who ran wide ahead of the hazer. Hinojosa followed and caught him, but lost precious time, and by the time he got the steer to the ground, he'd gone over Luke's time.

Relief escaped Luke in a breath as Kennedy screeched and jumped up and down beside him. She stopped herself before grabbing him, but only just. He chuckled and let her take him out to celebrate.

***

"How's your side?" she asked when they stepped into his RV. The familiarity of the place at once warmed her and made her sad. She'd been so pathetic when she showed up here in February. So much had changed. She was so much stronger now, and no longer dependent on him. She wasn't sure just how to break that information to him.

"Sore." He headed toward the bedroom at glacial speed.

He'd been moving slowly all evening, either hurting or scared to be hurting. "Maybe we should go to the hospital for an x-ray just in case."

He shook his head and lowered himself to the bed. "I'm not going to spend my winnings just for the doctor to tell me my ribs are cracked and there's nothing he can do." He reached for her, catching her hips and drawing her close. "Come here and take my mind off of it."

God, she loved kissing him, the rhythm they had, the taste of him, yeasty and smoky, the contrasting textures of his lips and rough stubble. She stood between his legs, one hand on his face, the other on the front of his shirt. He traced the curve of her ass with his fingertips, outlining the seam of her jeans from the small of her back to her pussy, prodding lightly against her opening. Wetness flowed to meet his touch, but she couldn't part her legs further, not in this position. She straightened, breaking the kiss, and opened his shirt, one button at a time, keeping her gaze locked with his.

"Tell me what you're going to do," he said, his voice a little strangled.

A flush heated her face, but she knew he liked to talk during sex. She swallowed her discomfort and went for teasing. "I'm going to get you naked."

"I thought you liked it when I fucked you with my clothes on."

"Not tonight."

"Once I'm naked, what are you going to do?"

"I'll get naked."

"I like the plan so far."

"Then I'm going to kiss you and rub my breasts against you." Just the anticipation of his chest hair against her nipples made them ache. "And I'm going to make you suck my nipples."

"Not a hardship. Is this making you wet, Kennedy?"

"I'm already wet. My panties are soaked, thinking about how you'll feel inside me."

"Christ." It was his turn to swallow as she peeled his shirt from his shoulders and knelt to work on his jeans. "How do I feel inside you?"

She looked up at him and winked. "I may have forgotten."

"You didn't." He choked out the words as she reached for his erection and drew it free from his jeans.

She leaned close to it, letting her breath gust over it. "Thick and hot. You stretch me and fill me and make me feel everything." She rose to take the head into her mouth, swiping her tongue along the underside, making him groan so loud the windows shook. Then she withdrew and sat on her heels. "But I want to come with you inside me."

He stretched for the bedside drawer and grabbed a condom, clenching it in his hand as she dragged his jeans off, then stood and stripped. She stood just out of reach, and curved her hands beneath her breasts, lifting them and watching his mouth drop open, his eyes go unfocused.

"Will you suck my nipples, Luke?" Just saying the words sent another flood of wetness to her pussy, but his reaction—God, she needed him in her now.

He snaked an arm around her waist and drew her close, rising to clamp his lips over her nipple, his tongue flicking, his mouth drawing.

"So good," she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair. "So good. The other one."

He released her nipple and nuzzled her other breast, scraping his stubble over the tender skin before soothing it with a soft kiss, tender licks, and a bite that had her arching, pressing her pussy against his stomach. She rubbed against him, needing to ease the ache.

"Again. God, again, Luke."

"What again?"

"Bite me. Please please please."

Contrary man that he was, he placed gentle kisses along the slope of her breast, his fingers trailing down her back to the cleft of her ass, following it to her entrance.

"So wet," he said against her skin. "So fucking sexy." And he plunged his fingers into her at the same time he closed his teeth over her nipple.

The orgasm ripped through her, her muscles squeezing his fingers, her hand tangling in his hair, pleasure shooting through her with the intensity of a bullet train. He didn't let her finish coming, but withdrew his fingers and lay back on the bed, inviting her over him. Shaking, she coasted her touch over his sheathed cock and guided him to her.

Ah, yes, deeper, thicker than his fingers, filling her. She adjusted to him, then began to move, sliding up and down, feeling every ridge, every vein caress her channel. God, she was so slick, so hungry to finish the orgasm and repeat it. He held himself on his elbows and watched her, not touching her, letting her be in charge. So she tried different rhythms, different angles, circling her hips, bobbing them, grinding down on his cock.

Oh, yes, that. She leaned forward, her breasts brushing his chest, and did it again, taking him as deep as she could. She picked up the pace, fucking him harder and faster, needing to feel his dick deep, needing to feel his groin slap against her clit.

"What do you want?" he asked roughly.

"I want to come. I want to come with you deep inside me."

"Take me in," he ordered, and she did, shifting to bring him as deep as she could.

He stroked his fingertips up her thigh and over her swollen clit. This time the orgasm rolled through her in slow motion so that she could feel her channel ripple up and down the length of him, so that she could feel his own orgasm pulse from him as she came.

Even in her mindless state, she remembered not to lay on his chest, instead flopping to the bed beside him. She rested her hand lightly over his furred chest.

"Did it hurt?"

He shook his head, disposed of the condom in the trashcan by the bed, and stretched out beside her, facing her.

Only a moment passed before he reached up, stroked her hair back from her face and said, "So tell me why you're here."

Her body was still humming from feeling him inside her. She wasn't ready to have this conversation, especially when she didn't know what would come of it. She reached beneath her and pulled the covers loose—she loved that he made the bed—and wriggled beneath them.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Cold?"

Vulnerable, was more like. She didn't know how he'd react to the news that she was financially independent. Would he send her on her way? She kept thinking of the swing he'd made for her, and hoped the answer was no, but she couldn't be sure. And that was why she was here. "I wanted to see you ride."

"You've seen me ride."

She ignored the comment. "I missed you and needed to talk to you."

He went perfectly still beside her. "Are you pregnant?"

"What? God, no." She may as well just tell him before he gave them both a heart attack. She sat up and tucked the sheets around her. "A few days after you left, my father's lawyer showed up."

He sat slowly, too, not bothering to cover himself. "I didn't know your father had a lawyer."

"Well, not like a personal one, but the one in charge of his will. Turns out they found some money of my mother's that she set aside for me, so I'm not as broke as I thought."

Again he went still, his gaze focused on her face. "How not broke are you?"

"Oh, I'm by no means wealthy. But I'll be able to pay you back."

"Pay me back for what?" His voice held a hint of temper.

She pushed her hair back, so tired of being on unequal footing with him. "For taking me in, for feeding me, for getting me a job and the car."

"You think I did that expecting you to pay me back?"

"I know—" She had to tread lightly here. That Delaney pride was big. "I know you're using all your money for your house—"

"And that house would be nowhere near the shape it's in now if not for you."

"There's that, too. I know it wasn't your priority."

"That's not what I mean. I don't want your money." He moved to the edge of the mattress and untangled his boxers from his jeans.

"I can't go on without giving you the money. I hate how lopsided things have been between us, and I'm thinking if I even things up, money-wise, then we can start over."

He glared over his shoulder at her. "Why start over? I like where we are now."

"I do, too, but I'll always wonder."

His eyebrows slammed together. "Wonder what?"

"Wonder why we're together. Is it just because I showed up and was convenient? Did you sleep with me because—" She broke off, but it was too late.

His gaze sharpened. "You think I'm fucking you in payment for letting you live in my house?"

Her stomach felt like rocks had taken up residence. She wasn't trying to insult him, but she had to make him understand her need here. "It just—it's that I don't have any power in our relationship. You have it all, the car, the house, the money. I'm like a housewife from the Fifties. I want us to be on even ground or—"

"Or what?"

She waved her hand aimlessly. "Or it's not going to work."

"I'm not taking your money, Kennedy."

"Then you're a selfish ass."

He lifted his eyebrows. "For _not_ taking your money?"

"For not understanding why I need to give it to you."

"I understand. You think you're prostituting yourself. I think that's insulting, to think I'd want to sleep with you in payment."

"Can you just try to see it from my side?"

"Can you try to see it from mine?"

She bent to pick up her clothes from the floor. "I'm going back to Gonzales."

"Not tonight, you aren't."

"Why not?"

"It's late already. I don't want you getting to the house so late."

Jesus, he was frustrating. She knew he cared about her. Why couldn't he see how important this was to her? "Fine. Then I'm sleeping on the couch."

He blew out a breath through his nose. "I'll sleep on the couch."

She bounced off the bed and held out a hand to him. "God, Luke, no. Don't you see? I'm tired of you being the one who gives all the time and me being the one who takes. I'll sleep on the couch."

She stormed the few steps to the other room. But she didn't sleep, not for a long time.

## CHAPTER FOURTEEN

She woke up the next morning, eyes gummy from crying herself to sleep, to see sunlight streaming through the window over the couch, and Luke sitting at the dinette, watching her. She rubbed at her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows.

"What?" she asked.

"I can't take your money and here's why. I'm in no better shape than your father was."

Her stomach clenched. As far as she'd seen, Luke was very careful with his money. His only indulgence, that she'd seen, was her.

"If I'd really hurt myself last night, broken my ribs or my collarbone or my leg, if I was out of the game for awhile, I'd be in bad shape. Yes, the land is paid for but there are still taxes that will be going up as I make improvements. The truck and RV are paid for but not gas or utilities or food. I don't bet, but I gamble every time I get on a horse. If something happens that gets me out of the game, you're back where you started. At least if you have your money, you can be independent. You don't have to worry what happens to me. If you want to go back to Dallas—"

She rose to her knees and reached across to put her fingers on his lips. "If I wanted to go back to Dallas, I would have told you that before you brought me back here. I don't want to go back to Dallas. I want to go back to Gonzales and work in the diner and live on the farm. I want to watch sunsets from my swing and dip my toes in the creek. I want to watch you ride when I can and wait for you to come home when I can't. But I need to know, I need to be sure, you're not keeping me around out of pity."

"Pity?" He shifted to sit on the edge of the couch. "Kennedy, I've loved you since I was eighteen years old."

The words slammed into her hard enough to steal her breath. This must have been what he felt last night when he hit the shoulder of that steer. Before she could recover, he continued.

"I never said or did anything out of respect for Red, then you and Liam—"

Her face heated. "I didn't know you knew about that."

"I saw you together one night."

He didn't say anything else, but the way he was looking at her let her know she'd hurt him by choosing his brother that first time.

"I figure that's why you came to me first for help? And not him?"

She nodded, holding her breath, waiting to see what he'd say next. But he left the subject of Liam behind.

"I was so mad at you, first for moving to Dallas and breaking Red's heart, then for not letting me know how sick he was. But the last couple of months..." He lowered his gaze, shaking his head. "I miss you when you're not around, and I want to tell you things and eat with you and sleep with you and make love with you."

"You love me?"

"For years."

She folded her arms around his neck and leaned forward. "I was afraid you'd freak out if I said I loved you."

He arched his brows. "Not just taking pity on me?"

"Never." She leaned in for a soft kiss. "Now, let's collect your winnings and go home. We have plans to make."

THE END

## ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Emma Jay has been writing longer than she'd care to admit, using her endless string of celebrity crushes as inspiration for her heroes. She discovered her husband has way more tolerance for screensavers and hunk-decorated blog posts when she calls them her "heroes." Emma, married 25 years (wed at the age of 8, of course) believes writing romance is like falling in love, over and over again. Creating characters and love stories is an addiction she has no intention of breaking.

You can find Emma online at www.emmajayromance.com, on Facebook and on Twitter at @emmajayromance.

Her other books include In the _Marshal's Arms_ , _Wild Wild Widow_ , _Eye of the Beholder_ , _Her Perfect Getaway_ and _Off Limits_.
