The Cowboy And The Widow (Texas Cowboys Book 2) Page 2

  The man had never given her an orgasm, had never even realized the need to provide her passion. He’d provided her a roof, a purpose, given her a home to transform into her own haven.

  Not a handsome man, he’d still managed to impress her when he’d begun to court her. Promising her comfort, protection—family. Something she’d craved since she’d been left alone in the world.

  And although he’d tried to fulfill the promise of giving her a family, that was another hole he’d left in her life. He’d been sterile. When they’d discovered the fact, he no longer thought it necessary to use her body. What was the point?

  When Danny Tynan came to the ranch, she’d met a good-looking boy, about to be a man, and a very sexual creature—if the state of his bedding was any indication.

  Perhaps the hormones raging in his young body had affected her, for she began to feel those stirrings again. The ones her husband’s neglect had buried. She’d felt shame for her feelings, for the yearnings that tempted her to leave open a button or two at the top of her blouse to tempt him to peer inside her shirt, to wear shorter shorts to feel his glance rake the length of her legs.

  That was as far as she’d allowed it to go, because she hadn’t trusted herself to do the right thing.

  Now, he was back. More of a temptation than ever. But it was much too late for her.

  She’d seen his resume come in on the fax machine, not believing she was reading the name at the top of the form. She’d hidden it, carrying it around all day, debating whether to show it to Reggie.

  They’d needed someone like him. She remembered how Douglas had spoken of the young man, about his natural talent with horses, his gentleness when he trained them, how he’d settled a saddle on a particularly fractious stallion inside a day and had him quivering, but quiescent, as he’d slowly added weight to the young horse’s back.

  In the end, it hadn’t been his talent that convinced her to give the application to Reggie. She’d needed Danny to come. To see him, and discover that he wasn’t as handsome as she remembered, and couldn’t have been anything more than the sexual fixation of a very frustrated woman. Seeing him again should dull the luster of her memories.

  And she’d try anything to dull the wild and inappropriate attraction she’d felt for the boy.

  Reggie had taken one look at the crumpled paper she shoved at him, and his bushy eyebrows rose high. “Danny Tynan,” he’d said quietly. “Seems pretty eager. Says he’s free and clear to start right away.” His gaze rose from the paper and gave her a searching look. “We’ve needed some new blood around here.”

  Maggie shrugged, not wanting to make the decision that would place temptation squarely in her path. “It’s up to you,” she said, forcing a bright, unconcerned smile.

  She’d turned on her heels and fled the office they shared.

  When Reggie had mentioned later that day that Danny would be arriving in the morning, she’d given him another vague smile, knowing the wily old man saw right through her.

  After a sleepless night, filled with second and third thoughts about the wisdom of hiring him, and a firm resolution not to let his presence change a single thing, Maggie had played the coward. She’d avoided him all day. She’d breathed a sigh of relief when he hadn’t shown up at suppertime, then retreated to her room right after it to make sure their paths didn’t cross.

  The sound of his shower starting down the hall quieted her nerves for the first time that long day.

  For all the stern talking she’d done with herself, she’d never worked up the courage to confront herself over why she’d decided to let him sleep under her own roof, again.

  Not once had she considered putting him in the bunkhouse. She’d given him his old room, having always thought of it that way—as his.

  Reggie had given her a strange look when she’d told him but held his tongue. Reggie knew how things had been between Douglas and her, even before her husband had fallen ill. After Douglas had been diagnosed, their relationship had grown even more remote.

  Maybe Reggie didn’t question her because he thought her sexless anyway.

  Or maybe he was more compassionate than that.

  Even if she wouldn’t act on her desires, the thought of Danny sleeping under the same roof filled her with more excitement, more hope, than she’d felt stirring inside herself for years.

  She wasn’t going to feel guilty about it. Wasn’t going to feel ashamed. It was time to stop hiding.

  First, she needed to make some pies. Something to help her soothe her breathless anticipation and help her sleep.

  Flinging on a night robe, she opened her bedroom door to head to the kitchen and slammed into a solid wall of muscle.

  Hands reached out to steady her, settling at the tops of her hips. She froze with her arms locked at her sides, gazing up into the blue-eyed gaze that had haunted her for so long.

  Only thin layers of cotton separated her chest from his. Her nipples sprouted instantly. “I’m sorry,” she said tilting her head to look fully into his face. “I didn’t see you.”

  Although the hallway was shadowed, she did see the way his lips twisted and heard the swiftly indrawn breath that pressed his chest harder against hers.

  “Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, his voice sounding gruff.

  She shivered at the low timbre of his voice. “I thought you were asleep,” she said quickly, trying not to take too deep a breath to keep her nipples from poking against his chest. Only gently pressed against him now, the sensation was wreaking havoc with her mind.

  He cleared his throat. “I got hungry.”

  Her mouth suddenly went dry. She swallowed hard. “I can make you a sandwich. From leftovers,” she said, trying to get her tongue and her mind to work together.

  However, the large hands bracketing her hips made her legs weak and her tongue stick to the top of her mouth.

  “You don’t have to. I know where the kitchen is. My own damn fault I missed dinner.” His fingers tightened, and he gave his head a slight shake. “Pardon me.”

  “For what?” she breathlessly, all too aware of the hands holding her in place.

  “For cussin’.”

  “I don’t mind, I’m surrounded by men. I know how you talk,” she said softly, charmed by his attempt to mind his manners, and beginning to grow warm inside his embrace. “You can let me go now. I won’t fall.”

  His breath hitched, and his hands dropped like they’d been burned.

  Instantly, she missed the heat of his fingers and the strength in his hands, but she turned, tucking her head down to hide her expression as she pursed her lips and blew a silent whistle.

  Danny followed her, keeping just a step behind her all the way into the kitchen.

  With a tall, handsome man trailing her through her home, she’d never felt so aware of herself, of the sway of her hips, of her shorter height, or her femininity.

  When she reached the kitchen, breathless and flustered, she turned on the lights, and then wished she hadn’t been so quick. She wore a white cotton gown with a thin white robe over it. He might see something if the cloth pulled too close to her body or her figure was silhouetted in the light.

  As soon as the though flitted through her mind, another followed closely. Would he like what he saw?

  She stopped hunching her shoulders to hide the sharp points of her nipples and concentrated instead on pulling out slices of freshly baked ham and bread, and the rest of the “fixings” a young man might appreciate.

  He didn’t have to know she deliberately displayed herself. It would be her wicked little secret. One to savor in the darkness when she returned to her lonely bed.

  In the meantime, she watched him from the corners of her eyes, catching his glance darting toward her bare legs, then rising higher and snagging on her chest as she stood on tiptoe to reach for glasses from the cupboard.

  “Let me,” he said quietly, reaching over her shoulder into the high second shelf.

  His body leaned ag
ainst her back, a thickly muscled arm entering her sight as he stretched past her to take down two glasses.

  He’d never know how her body trembled as he pressed closer and his rich, masculine scent poured over her.

  “Got it,” he whispered.

  Startled, her glance swung to his.

  Or maybe he did know.

  Standing so close, the glare of overhead lights illuminated his features, revealing the heat flaring in his deep blue eyes.

  A breathy gasp escaped between her lips.

  Danny blinked, drew away, and set the glasses on the countertop.

  Maggie turned, gripped the edge of the counter behind her, and watched as he walked stiffly toward the table and sat. He winced, widened his legs under the table, and then rested his forearms on the edge as he clasped his hands together.

  He didn’t look up. Seemed to studiously avoid looking her way.

  Maggie dragged in a deep breath, shaking her head to clear it of the luscious thoughts skittering through her mind.

  Pushing away from the counter, she gathered what she needed, made two sandwiches and portioned out a generous helping of her homemade potato salad. Then she walked over to him, standing beside him to set the plate on the table. “What would you like to drink?”

  His head stayed down, color rimming the top of his ear. “Whatever’s handy,” he muttered.

  “Ice tea? Milk?” she said breathlessly.

  “Milk, I guess.”

  She walked away, opened the refrigerator, and then bent to reach inside and pick up the carton. Before she straightened, she cast a glance toward him to find his head turning sharply away.

  Dear Lord. Did he find her attractive? After all this time?

  With her hair mussed, no makeup, and wearing old cotton nightclothes?

  The sight of him, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, his feet bare, was too delicious for her peace of mind. Her hands trembled as she poured milk into the two glasses and carried them to the table. She took a seat opposite him, keeping her gaze on his plate.

  She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and swallowed. “You aren’t eating.”

  He cleared his throat again. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  She lifted her head and stared, not understanding. A moment passed as his steady stare held hers before his words registered.

  Douglas. He was talking about Doug. “Thank you. He’s been gone a while. I’ve gotten used to it.”

  That Doug’s passing had been a relief at the end, for them both, was a guilty secret she held close to her heart.

  His fingers curled on the table beside his plate. “You shouldn’t have put me up here.”

  “You mean, in the house?” At his slow nod, she added, “Why?”

  “Pretty woman like you. People might talk.”

  Truly surprised, she blurted, “But I’m older than you.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Whatever,” he muttered.

  She took a deep breath and looked around the kitchen, trying not to read too much into his intense expression, trying harder to ignore the excitement heating her body inside and out. “You think I’m pretty?” Dear God, had she really blurted that out?

  His snort drew her back. Fascinated, she watched as he deliberately picked up one of the sandwiches and began to eat, holding her gaze all the while as though daring her to comment on what he’d said.

  Emboldened by his words, she searched through her mind for the right way to ask him to explain. “I suppose I didn’t consider the fact you’re a grown man, now. Living with any woman in such close proximity…” Because she knew she was babbling, she clamped her lips shut.

  He swallowed the bite and licked his lips. “Bullshit.”

  He’d said it so softly she couldn’t say she was exactly shocked. His adamancy spurred her rising excitement. “Beg your pardon?”

  “Not just any woman. You.”

  She glanced away as her heartbeats quickened inside her chest. The conversation was quickly becoming more intimate than she thought she could handle, given the arousal slowly building inside her. “Would you be more comfortable in the bunkhouse?”

  “Is that what you want?”

  Again, his soft-spoken but bluntly stated words cut straight through her.

  A boldness she didn’t know she possessed told her that if she ever wanted to explore the attraction that sparked between them, now was the time for a little honesty.

  Knowing she was taking a step past the point of no return, she closed her eyes and drew a deep, fortifying breath. Then meeting his gaze, she replied, “No. I don’t want you to leave.”

  Chapter Three

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  Danny took another bite, not the least bit hungry, but wanting time to think about how to respond. He didn’t want to come off sounding desperate, but he wanted her to know he was interested—keenly so.

  The feel of her soft, pillowy breasts snuggled up against his chest in the hallway had had him hard in the space of a heartbeat.

  As she’d fluttered nervously around the kitchen, he’d watched her, trying not to blatantly stare, but looking close enough to see if he was reading the signs right.

  He didn’t want to make a misstep. Didn’t want her shying away, or worse, becoming embarrassed by him and his horny self.

  But having her sitting across the table from him in her thin nightgown, knowing she’d pulled herself straight from her bed, still looking warm and mussed because she couldn’t sleep, gave him hope that, maybe, she shared a little of the attraction that raged through his body.

  Perhaps he’d been a little too eager, pressing against her as he took down the glasses, but he couldn’t regret it. She’d trembled against him, had grown breathless, confirming the arousal that spiked her nipples against his chest when she’d barreled into him.

  Maggie Dermott wanted him. Looked as though she was dying to be fucked—by him.

  He’d give a limb for the chance to be with her, to love her all the ways he’d dreamed of for so long.

  No way would he blow it. He’d go slow, love her like she deserved. Turn her inside out with all the wicked things he’d do. Make it impossible for her to ever let him go.

  First, he needed to convince her he was serious. The crazy woman thought she was too damn old for him.

  “Just seems a little strange,” he said slowly, “Me being here. Only man in the house.”

  She licked her lips. “I thought you might like your old room.”

  “I do. A bed’s softer than a cot.”

  A small, tight smile tipped up the corners of her mouth. “It’ll be nice having the company.”

  A flush of anger had him spearing her with a glance. He wasn’t going to let her play polite games. Not after she’d managed to get him good and aroused. “Is there anything else you want, Maggie?”

  Her eyes widened. Her lips pressed together for a moment. Then, she gave him a direct look, one that didn’t slide away into any pretense. “Would…” she paused to lick her lips. “Would you be totally shocked, if I said I want you?”

  Danny froze. How was a man supposed to respond when he’d just been handed heaven on a platter? Deep, visceral satisfaction thrummed inside him, filling his loins with heat.

  Her mouth opened around a loud gasp. “I can’t believe I just said that. Forget it,” she said, hastily, her eyes blinking against the welling moisture.

  Danny set the last of the sandwich on the plate and reached across the table to clasp her wrist with his fingers. “I’m finished here. Let’s go,” he said, then bit back a curse at his brash words. Could he sound more like an eager puppy?

  She tugged her hand, trying to escape him. Her breaths huffed out with a ragged edge. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Why, if it’s what you feel?”

  Her brows arched over her lustrous brown eyes. “I feel foolish.”

  “You don’t look it. Not to me.”

  “But it’s wrong for me to even consider it. You and me? I’m too old for yo
u.”

  Danny couldn’t help the edge of irritation that crept into his voice. “You sound as though you’re ready for a walker.”

  “I knew you when you were still in high school.” Her expression grew more earnest as she argued. But who was she trying to convince?

  “I graduated,” he said flatly. “I’m old enough to vote, to smoke, to fuck any woman I want and not send her to jail.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “That was a little crude.”

  “That’s how I feel. Crude. Raw. A pretty lady just said she wants me.”

  Her gaze slid away, and her other hand lifted to close the space where her night robe gaped open. “I wish you hadn’t said that. I wish you’d tell me you were flattered, but maybe it’s not such a great idea.”

  Danny would never understand a woman’s mind. She wanted him. Why not just stop at that? But he knew enough to let her to talk. “If you told me the truth, why would you want me to turn you down?”

  Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “Because I’m afraid.”

  “Of me?” he asked, truly surprised.

  “Of disappointing you.”

  “Not possible,” he muttered.

  “I’m not…young.” Her gaze dropped lower. “My body shows its years.”

  “Your body felt just fine to me a few minutes ago.”

  Her eyes closed briefly then, at last, opened to meet his gaze. “I’ll want the lights off,” she whispered.

  Danny held himself still, wanting to savor her surrender. He’d been with her less than half an hour, and he couldn’t believe things had moved this fast.

  She was likely just as shocked. If he gave her any time, any space to reconsider, she might backpedal fast.

  Still, he found himself slowly shaking his head. “I’ll want them on. I wanna see you.”

  Her brows drew together in a slight frown.

  Was he pushing her too far when he ought to be damned grateful she’d given him that first inch?

  Her cheeks billowed as she blew out a deep breath. “I’m not very good.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Her hesitation didn’t have a thing to do with whether or not she wanted him bad enough. She was worried about what he’d think.