The Marine Cowboy(6)

The cold dinner he’d requested sat packed neatly in sacks on the small bar separating the kitchen from the main room. Firewood stacked in the hearth would let him light a fire if they wanted it. The bearskin rug lay invitingly in front of the stone hearth. The sheets on the queen-sized bed were turned down and waiting and a bottle of champagne, wine, and case of beer chilled in the fridge.

All his bases were covered. He hadn’t heard a peep from the service since agreeing to the night, save for acknowledging the plans he made. Tipping his hat back, he ignored the beer for a moment and walked out to the porch to wait. A breeze came in from the mountains. The scent of pine, green grass, and a hint of water drifted through the air. In the distance, horses whinnied, but the trees muffled the sound. If he didn’t know the old log cabin sat in one of the most exclusive and coveted spots of the MGR, he could almost believe he was alone.

The sounds of nature washed over him, relaxing nerves that, even after a week at home and back breaking labor working on the ranch, remained raw. An engine purred through the silence, but it didn’t turn onto the gravel road leading up to the cabin. At one minute to four, a twig snapped, and he opened his eyes to look to his left.

I’ll be damned.

The librarian stood next to one of the trees at the edge of the cabin’s clearing, her smile shy and her sunglasses pushed up to reveal wide, almost nervous eyes. She wore a cherry-colored sundress, baring creamy white shoulders and long arms. The skirt brushed her knees, and where he expected sandals, she wore a pair of sturdy, low-ankled boots.

He approved. Feminine, but smart. Sexy, but sensible. Trailing his gaze back upward, he met her sweet brown eyes with a grin. “Afternoon, ma’am.”

“Hi.” Her voice was sweet.

Funny, I’ve seen her all over town and this is the first time I’ve actually heard her.

Crossing the yard slowly, she minded where she put her feet. She must have walked down from a main point on the property. If he’d known she needed one, he would have offered her a ride.

Hell, if he’d known she was his date, he would have put more effort into the planning. This promised to be a hell of a lot more interesting than trying to see her after church.

“I’m A.J. Turner.” He removed his hat and held out his hand. One-night stand or not, and he preferred more than one, she was a lady.

“I know.” She slid her hand against his, caressing his palm ever so briefly before closing her grasp and accepting the handshake. “Sheri Vaughn.”

“You’re the librarian.” He grinned. Her skin was soft, warm, and almost as sweet as her smile. He closed his grip on her hand and held it.

She lifted her eyebrows, but didn’t protest. “And you’re the Marine.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I’m really glad I turned my phone back on.”

A pretty, pale pink suffused her cheeks, and she lowered her lashes, shielding her brown eyes. “I’m sorry?” She laughed and tugged her hand. He let her go, reluctantly. She smoothed her hand over her dress and then up to touch her hair. The awkward nervousness was endearing.

“I came home and shut off my phone. I had a lot of work to do on the ranch and liked the thought of the quiet. Almost forgot about the service.” He winked, enjoying the blush that deepened on her cheeks. “Would you like to join me on the porch? And maybe a drink?”

“I would, thank you.” She walked toward the cabin, hands clasped behind her back. “I guess that explains why it took a week for me to hear back.”

He settled the hat back on his head and pulled out one of the handcrafted oak chairs for her to sit on. Fortunately the porch was wide enough to boast a small table and chairs.

“My apologies, ma’am.” He brushed his fingers across her shoulder as she sat. “If I’d realized, I would have called a lot sooner.”

She looked up at him. “Why is that?”

It was too soon. They’d just met—officially at least. But the urge to kiss her swung through his system like a well-aimed hammer. He leaned down and brushed his mouth against hers. Her breath tasted of mint and her lips were like petals.

Her swift inhale emboldened him, and he massaged her lips slowly, teasing them apart until his tongue could taste hers. Locking his hands on the chair, he focused only on the kiss and the sweet hesitation that evaporated with a low, groan. She kissed like a summer breeze, warm and inviting. Desire burst through him, and he wanted to sink into her and linger a while, but he’d promised her a drink.

With even greater reluctance than he felt when he let go of her hand, he pulled back. Her brown eyes were dark and dreamy when she met his gaze. “Because I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you in the café.”