Take Me, Cowboy (12 page)

“No. Not like you mean. But I know her, and I care about her. And I know you.”

“What does that mean?”

Sam pondered that for a second. “You're not her speed.”

“I'm not trying to be.” He was getting ready to punch his brother in the face anyway.

“I'm just saying.”

“You're just saying,” he muttered. “Go
just say
somewhere else. A guy whose only friends are his younger brother and that brother's friend maybe shouldn't stand there and make commentary on relationships.”

“I'm quiet. I'm perceptive. As you mentioned, I am an artist.”

“You can't pull that out when it suits you and put it away when it doesn't.”

“Sure I can. Artists are temperamental.”

“Stop beating around the bush. Say what you want to say.”

Sam sighed. “If she offers you more than friendship, take it, dumbass.”

“Why would you think that she would ever offer that? Why would you think that I want it?”

He felt defensive. And more than a little bit annoyed. “She will. I'm not blind. Actually, being antisocial has its benefits. It means that I get to sit back and watch other people interact. She likes you. She always has. And she's the kind of good... Chase, we don't get good like that. We don't deserve it.”

“Gee. Thanks, Sam.”

“I'm not trying to insult you. I'm just saying that she's better than either of us. Figure out how to make it work if she wants to.”

Everything in Chase recoiled. “She doesn't want to. And neither do I.” He turned away from Sam, heading toward the door.

“Are you sleeping with her yet?”

Chase froze. “That isn't any of your business.”

“Right. You are.”

“Still not your business.”

“Chase, we both have a lot of crap to wade through. Which is pretty obvious. But if she's standing there willing to pull you out, I'm just saying you need to take her up on her offer.”

“She has enough crap of her own that she's hip deep in, Sam. I don't need her taking on mine.”

Sam rubbed his hand over his forehead. “Yeah, that's always the thing.”

“Anyway, she doesn't want me. Not like that. I mean, not forever. This is just a...physical thing.” Which was way more information than his brother deserved.

“Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night.”

“I sleep like a baby, Sam.” He continued out the door, heading toward his truck. He had to get back to the house and get showered and dressed so that he could pick up Anna. And he was not going to think about anything his brother had said.

Anna didn't want forever with him.

That thought immobilized him, forced him to imagine a future with Anna, stretching on and on into the distance. Holding her, kissing her. Sleeping beside her every night and waking up with her every morning.

Seeing her grow round with his child.

He shut it down immediately. That was a fantasy. One he didn't want. One he couldn't have.

He would have Anna as a friend forever, but the “benefits” portion of their relationship was finite.

So, he would just enjoy this while it lasted.

Ten

S
he looked like a cliché. A really slutty one. She wasn't sure she cared. But in her very short denim skirt and plaid shirt knotted above the waistline she painted quite the picture.

One of a woman looking to get lucky.

“Well,” she said to her reflection—her made-up reflection, compliments of her trip to the store in Tolowa today, as was everything else. “You
are
looking to get lucky.”

Fair. That was fair.

She heard the sound of a truck engine and tires on the gravel in her short little driveway. She was renting a house in an older neighborhood in town—not right in the armpit of town where she'd grown up, but still sort of on the fringe—and the yard was a little bit...rustic.

She wondered if Chase would honk. Or if he would come to the door.

Him coming to the door would feel much more like a date. A real date.

A
date
date.

Oh, Lord, what were they doing?

She had flirted with him on the phone, and she'd enjoyed it. Had wanted—very much—to push him even harder. Trading innuendo with him was...well, it was a lot more fun than she'd imagined.

There was a heavy knock on the door and she squeaked, hopping a little bit before catching her breath. Then she grabbed her purse and started to walk to the entry, trying to calm her nerves. He'd come to the door. That felt like A Thing.

You're being crazy. Friends with benefits. Not boyfriend.

The word
boyfriend
made her stomach lurch, and she did her best to ignore it. She jerked the door open, watching his face intently for his response to her new look. And she was not disappointed.

“Damn,” he said, leaning forward, resting his forearm on the doorjamb. “I didn't realize you would be showing up dressed as Country Girl from My Dirtiest Dreams.”

She shouldn't feel flattered by that. But she positively glowed. “It seemed fair, since you're basically the centerfold of
Blacksmith Magazine
.”

He laughed. “Really? How would that photo shoot go?”

“You posing strategically in front of the forge with a bellows over your junk.”

“I am not getting my
junk
near the forge. The last thing I need is sensitive body parts going up in flames.”

“I know I don't want them going up in flames.” She cleared her throat, suddenly aware of a thick blanket of awkwardness settling over them. She didn't know what to do with him now. Did she...not touch him unless they were going to have sex? Did she kiss him if she wanted to or did she need permission?

She needed a friends-with-benefits handbook.

“Um,” she began, rather unsuccessfully. “What exactly are my benefits?”

“Meaning?”

“My benefits additional to this friendship. Do I...kiss you when I see you? Or...”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

She looked up at him, all sexy and delicious looking in his tight black T-shirt, cowboy hat and late-in-the-day stubble. “Is that a trick question? Because the only answer to ‘Do I want to kiss a very hot guy?' is yes. But not if you don't want to kiss me.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her up against him before bending down to kiss her slowly, thoroughly. “Does that help?”

She let out a long, slow breath, the tension that had been strangling her since he'd arrived at her house leaving her body slowly. “Yes,” she said, sighing. “It does.”

“All right,” he said, extending his hand. “Let's go.”

She took hold of his hand, the warmth of his touch flooding her, making her stomach flip. She let him lead her to the truck, open her door for her. All manner of date-type stuff. The additional benefits were getting bound up in the dating lessons and at the moment she wasn't sure what was for her and what was for the Making Her Datable mission.

Then she decided it didn't matter.

She just clung to the good feelings the whole drive to Ace's.

When they got there, she felt the true weight of the spectacle they were creating in the community. Beaches was one thing. Them being together there had certainly caused a ripple. But everyone in Copper Ridge hung out at Ace's.

Sierra West, whose family was a client of both her and Chase, was in the corner with some other friends who were involved with local rodeo events. Sheriff Eli Garrett was over by the bar, along with his brother, Connor, and their wives, Sadie and Liss.

She looked the other direction and saw Holly and Ryan Masters sitting in the corner, looking ridiculously happy. Holly and Ryan had both grown up in foster care in Copper Ridge and so had been part of the town-charity-case section at school. Though Holly was younger and Ryan a little older, so she'd never been close friends with them. Behind them was Jonathan Bear, looking broody and unapproachable as usual.

She officially knew too many damn people.

“This town is the size of a postage stamp,” she muttered as she followed Chase to a table where they could deposit their coats and her purse.

“That's good,” he said. “Men are seeing you attached. It's all part of changing your reputation. That's what you want.”

She grunted. “I guess.” It didn't feel like what she wanted. She mostly just wanted to be alone with Chase now. No performance art required.

But she was currently a dancing monkey for all of Copper Ridge, so performance art was the order of the evening.

She also suddenly felt self-conscious about her wardrobe choice. Wearing this outfit for Chase hadn't seemed bad at all. Wearing it in front of everyone was a little much.

The jukebox was blaring, and Luke Bryan was demanding all the country girls shake it for him, so Anna figured—regardless of how comfortable she was feeling—it was as good a time as any for them to get out on the dance floor.

The music was fast, so people weren't touching. They were just sort of, well,
shaking it
near each other.

She was just standing there, looking at him and not shaking it, because she didn't know what to do next. It felt weird to be here in front of everyone in a skirt. It felt weird to be dancing with Chase. It felt weird to not touch him. But it would be weirder to touch him.

Hell if she knew what she was doing here.

Then he reached out, brushing his fingers down her arm. That touch, that connection, rooted her to the earth. To the moment. To him. Suddenly, it didn't matter so much what other people around them were doing. She moved in slightly, and he put his hand on her hip.

Then, before she was ready, the song ended, slowing things down. And now she really didn't know what to do. It seemed that Chase did, though. He wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her in close, taking hold of her hand with his free one.

Her heart was pounding hard. And she was pretty sure her face was bright red. She looked up at Chase, his expression unreadable. He was not bright red. Of course he wasn't. Because even if this relationship was new for him, this kind of situation was not. He knew how to handle women. He knew how to handle sex feelings. Meanwhile, she was completely unsure of what to do. Like a buoy floating out in the middle of the ocean, just bobbing there on her own.

Her breathing got shorter, harder. Matching her heartbeat. She couldn't just dance with him like this. She needed to not be in front of people when she felt these things. She felt like her arousal was written all over her skin. Well, it was. She was blushing like a beacon. She could probably guide ships in from the sea.

She looked at Chase's face again. There was no way to tell what he was thinking. His dark gaze was shielded by the dim lighting, his jaw set, hard, his mouth in a firm line. That brief moment of connection that she'd felt was gone now. He was touching her still, but she had no idea what he was feeling.

She looked over to her left and noticed that people were staring. Of course they were. She and Chase were dancing and that was different. And, of course, a great many of the stares were coming from women. Women who probably felt like they should be in her position. Like she didn't belong there.

And they could all see how much she wanted it. That she wanted him more than he wanted her. That she was the one who was completely and totally out of control. Needing him so much she couldn't even hide it.

And they all knew she didn't deserve it.

She pulled away from him, looking around, breathing hard. “I think... I just need a break.”

She crossed the room and went back to their table, grabbing her purse and making her way over to the bar.

Chase joined her only a few moments later. “What's up?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“We were dancing, and then you freaked out.”

“I don't like everybody watching us.”

“That's the point, though.”

That simple statement stabbed her straight through the heart. “Yeah. I know.” That was the problem. He was so conscious of why they were doing this. This whole thing. And she could so easily forget. Could so easily let down all the walls and shields that she had put in place to protect her heart. And just let herself want.

She hated that. Hated craving things she couldn't have. Affection she could never hope to earn.

Her mother had left. And no amount of wishing that she would come back, no amount of crying over that lost love, would do anything to fix it. No amount of hoping her father would drop that crusty exterior and give her a hug when she needed it would make it happen. So she just didn't want. Or at least, she never let people see how much she wanted.

“I know,” she said, her tone a little bit stiffer than she would like.

She was bombing out here. Failing completely at remaining cool, calm and unaffected. She was standing here in public, hemorrhaging needs all over the place.

“What's wrong?”

“I need a drink.”

“Why don't we leave?”

She blinked. “Just...leave?”

“If you aren't having fun, then there's no point. Let's go.”

“Where are we going?”

He grabbed her hand and started to lead her through the bar. “Somewhere fun.”

She followed him out into the night, laughing helplessly when they climbed into the truck. “People are going to talk. That was all a little weird.”

“Let them talk. They need something to do.”

He started the engine and backed out of the parking lot, turning sharply and heading down the road, out of town.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere I bet you've never been.”

“You don't know my life, Chase McCormack. You don't know where I've been.”

“I do know your life, Anna Brown.”

She gritted her teeth, because, of course, he did. She said nothing as they continued to drive up the road. And still said nothing when he turned onto a dirt road that forked into a narrower dirt road as it went up the mountain.

“What are we doing?” she asked again.

Just then, they came to a flat, clear area. She couldn't see anything; there were no lights except for the headlights on the truck, illuminating nothing but the side of another mountain, thick with evergreens.

“I want to make out with you. This is where you go do that.”

“We're adults,” she said, ignoring the giddy fluttering in her stomach. “We have our own bedrooms. And beds. We don't need to go make out in a car.”

“
Need
is not the operative word here. We're expanding experiences and stuff.” He flicked the radio on, country music filling the cab of the truck. “Actually, I think before we make out—” he opened the driver's-side door “—we should dance.”

Now there was nobody here. Which meant there was no excuse. Actually, this made her a lot more emotional. She did not like that. She didn't like the superpower that Chase seemed to have of reaching down inside of her, past all the defenses, and grabbing hold of tender, emotional things.

But she wasn't going to refuse, either.

It was dark out here. At least there was that.

Before she had a chance to move, Chase was at her side of the truck, opening her door. He extended his hand. “Dance with me?”

She was having a strange out-of-body experience. She wasn't sure who this woman was, up in the woods with only a gorgeous man for company. A man who wanted to dance with her. A man who wanted to make out with her.

She unbuckled, accepting his offered hand and popping out of the truck. He spun her over to the front of the vehicle, the headlights serving as spotlights as the music played over the radio. “I'm kind of a crappy dancer,” he said, pulling her in close.

“You don't seem like a crappy dancer to me.”

“How many men have you danced with?”

She laughed. “Um, counting now?”

“Yeah.”

“One.”

He chuckled, his breath fanning over her cheekbone. So intimate to share the air with him like this. Shocking. “Well, then, you don't have much to compare it to.”

“I guess not. But I don't think I would compare either way.”

“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”

“You're in a league of your own, Chase McCormack, don't you know?”

“Hmm. I have heard that a time or two. When teachers told me I was a unique sort of devil, sent there to make their lives miserable. Or all the times I used to get into it with my old man.”

“Well, you did raise a lot of hell.”

“Yeah. I did. I continue to raise hell, in some fashion. But I need people to see a different side of me,” he said, drawing her even tighter up against him. “I need for them to see that Sam and I can handle our business. That we can make the McCormack name big again.”

“Can you?” she asked, tilting her head up, her lips brushing his chin. The stubble there was prickly, masculine. Irresistible. So she bit him. Just lightly. Scraping her teeth over his skin.

He gripped her hair, pulling her head back. The sudden rush of danger in the movements sending a shot of adrenaline through her blood. This was so strange. Being in his arms and feeling like she was home. Like he was everything comforting and familiar. A warm blanket, a hot chocolate and a musical she'd seen a hundred times.