He’d rarely given thought to settling down because he’d never felt old enough to want a mortgage or a lawn to mow or kids to splash in a swimming pool. He figured he had too much of his daddy in him. Life on the road suited him.
But he didn’t have too many years more to be on the circuit. And he didn’t have any backup plans.
Maybe that’s what these weird feelings were about. He’d spent years riding bulls, eyeing the prize, but very few thinking about a future beyond the gold buckle. Some of his friends had turned to broadcasting. Others had retired into working as trainers, bull fighters or merely walking off into the sunset never to be heard of again. A handful of former bull riders ran their own ranches. Yet, outside of the one modeling gig, he’d never made a buck that hadn’t come from riding the shit out of a pissed-off bull. So what would he do once he hung up his spurs?
He swallowed the doubts.
Jesus, all of this indecisiveness had to be the result of the surgery. He wasn’t as young as he used to be and the years of abuse on his body had toughened him. But fatigue had set in, wearing him down. He no longer felt invincible and that had been a left hook to his confidence.
“Here we are,” Maggie said, setting the salad on the lazy Susan. He grabbed her and pulled her into his lap for a kiss. She willingly gave it, making his blood sing and his thoughts about-face from the weirdness he’d been experiencing. After several seconds she pried his fingers from her waist and rose. “Soon.”
“You like torture, don’t you?”
“Don’t you find a little buildup more satisfying in the end?”
“No, I find coming satisfying in the end.”
Maggie laughed. “Well, there’s that.”
Five minutes later, she lit two slender candles and switched off the kitchen light. Setting her recently filled wineglass on the table, she finally sat down across from him, where flickering candlelight danced across her soft face. The plate of penne pasta covered with a thick red sauce she’d set in front of him sent up a spicy aroma. Crusty Italian bread sat on either side of the plate, framing her offering. “This is nice, Maggie.”
“You’re going to need sustenance.”
Cal drove his fork into the steaming pasta. “It’s been a while since I’ve gone all night, but I like your confidence in me.”
She tucked her napkin in her lap like a lady. “Before we go upstairs and—”
“—get freaky?” he joked, taking a bite. Damn, she knew her way around a kitchen.
“You know I’m not into whips and chains, right?” she asked.
“But you do own thigh-high, black leather boots?”
Maggie made a face. “I hope you don’t have great expectations of—”
“Missionary only, huh?”
That made her laugh, but he could see in her demeanor she was nervous. Patience, he reminded himself. Patience. “So tell me about working for Bud.”
“You do like foreplay,” she teased, taking a bite of pasta and nodding at the taste. “Long story short, about two weeks before I was to graduate college, Bud had a stroke that cost him the use of the left side of his body. It also left him unable to speak well. He asked me to become his personal assistant because he needed someone he trusted to navigate the corporate world for him. Let’s just say his family relationships are difficult. Lots of hurt and ugliness from his children. Anyway, I went to work for Bud. Never regretted it.”
“But now?”
“After I sell this place, I’m thinking about starting a consulting firm. I’m good at working with people and helping them make good decisions that benefit the company. Somebody somewhere needs someone like me.”
I need you.
What an odd thought to pop into his mind. After all, he didn’t need anyone like Maggie in his life. His world was exactly what he wanted. As long as he drew a good bull and got a high score at the end of eight seconds, he was gravy. Didn’t need anything else.
“Cool,” was all he could manage because his thoughts had scared him. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. First he’d started doubting his physical ability to compete again in the arena and now an inchworm of dissatisfaction had crawled into his personal life.
Bullshit.
He didn’t want to think. He wanted to feel. Specifically, he wanted to feel Maggie shattering in his arms as he drove into her.
This was about sex. Hot, healing, good-for-them-both sex. Nothing more.
So keep that in mind, partner.
Ten minutes later, they slipped onto the porch to finish off the last of the wine. The night was inky and hot, the stars hiding behind clouds that had rolled in. The full moon lurked behind the thin clouds, too, but managed to throw a glow on the land around the sad little porch. Anticipation hadn’t faded, but they both seemed to sidestep around it.
Cal didn’t want to push to get the sexy started...as if the only reason he’d showered, shaved and showed up had been to get in her pants. That would be too...honest? And it would be a lie. Thing was he liked Maggie. He liked the way she bossed him around, the way she tried to act big city but still blushed when he said something off-color. He liked her laugh and her quick sarcasm. Not to mention, she cooked a damn fine supper. So it felt disingenuous to toss her over his shoulder and run up the stairs to find the nearest bedroom.
“I feel nervous,” she said, setting her glass on the rickety rail and rubbing her shoulders as if there was a chill. Which there wasn’t.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I want you, but once we go where we’re heading, there’s no turning back. We can’t undo knowing what each other looks like in our underwear.”
“Um, out of our underwear,” he said with a laugh, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her. He dropped a kiss against her neck. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I want you. God, I want you. But I told you I don’t walk into any pasture unless the gate is open.”
“I know,” she said, falling quiet, but clasping his arms and leaning back into him. He sent a message to the part below his belt to hold off on saluting her body’s perfection a few minutes longer.
In the shadows to their left, something moved. His body froze, alarm slamming into him. But then he saw the shape was feline.
“Guess county animal control missed one,” Maggie whispered.
He kissed the side of her neck and made her shiver. “Well, one good barn cat is a necessity. It’ll keep the rats out of the barn. Snakes, too.”
“In that case it can stay.” The cat crept into the yard, failing to see them embracing on the porch. Carefully, it made its way toward the barn, belly to the ground.
“So, Maggie,” Cal said, squeezing her tight.
“Hmm?”
“Is your gate open or not?”
She stilled for a moment, and then she turned in his arms. Reaching up, she set her hands on his shoulders. Her gaze met his and in her eyes he could see the desire. “Yeah. I took bolt cutters to it.”
“In my experience it’s the most effective way to get a gate open,” he said, lowering his head and capturing her lips with his. She tasted like tangy marinara and wine. Her lips were soft and her body sank into his. Opening her mouth, she gave him exactly what he asked for—full access. After a few seconds, he pulled back and studied her in the faint light.
“Hey,” she said, lifting her finger to trace the small scar on his chin. “Thank you.”
“For...”
“Being a gentleman.”
Cal grinned. “I ain’t no gentleman.”
“Yeah, you are. You understood what I needed—to decide this for myself. You didn’t use my desire against me.”
But he’d wanted to. God help him, but if she’d turned him down, he might have resorted to seduction. Wasn’t proud of it, but he wanted her so badly. Yet his inclination to give her space had paid off and now he didn’t have to step back or press forward. No, he got to hold an armful of sexy, warm woman who tasted like Italian and looked like a swimsuit model. Who said patience didn’t pay off?
“I can’t say I’m as good as you paint me. In fact, I’m sorta bad. You want to find out how bad I can be?” he asked, trailing a hand down her side, brushing the curve of her breast before grabbing her ass and hauling her against his hardness.
“Ooh,” she said, smiling up at him. “I might be interested.”
This time she kissed him, going from sweet to hot as hell in a second flat. No longer could he hold back the desire. Her tongue moving against his unleashed all he’d held back.
“Let’s go inside. Five weeks starts now,” he said.
* * *
MAGGIE OPENED THE door to the room she’d been sleeping in for almost a week. The room was small and nothing to brag about, but the bed had a new mattress and clean sheets. And that’s all they needed.
She started to turn around and wave her hands with a ta-da motion, but Cal was too quick. He swept her against him, his lips almost punishing. Backing her against the mattress, they fell onto the bed.
“I wanna go slow, but I’m not sure I can. You’re all I’ve been thinking about for a week. Those kick-ass legs, the tight ass and your pretty pair of lips...and every space in between,” he said, nipping his way down the column of her throat as he tugged up the hem of her T-shirt.