The Maverick Cowboy(25)

"Jenna?"

Hell, she was still coming straight for him, and then suddenly she wasn't there anymore and he bit back a yelp. 

"Holy cow!" Blue briefly closed his eyes as she thundered past him, her body crouched low on one side of Nolly Indian hideaway – style before she settled back down into the saddle, whooping at the top of her voice.

He followed her down to Roy's place and tied Messi up in the shade of the small barn. She came in behind him and did a showy vaulting dismount.

"Okay, so you're a damned good rider. Where did you learn how to do that? You scared the crap out of me."

"My mom was a trick rider at the rodeo. I grew up watching her perform, and she taught me a couple of things. Apparently, I looked super cute riding alongside her."

"We're talking about your birth mom here?"

"Yeah." Her smile widened. "My adopted mom's in medicine. I hear from January that you and Chase have a couple of rodeo tricks up your sleeves as well."

"That was a one-off. If I hadn't wanted to outdo Chase, I would never have suggested it." He shuddered. "Never been so terrified in my life."

"You're a Marine. I'm sure that was a lot more scary."

"Not really."

She held his gaze, and he leaned in and kissed her.

"You're not supposed to do that."

"That's right."

"Then stop it."

He kissed her again. "Okay."

She stomped off toward the pigsty and he followed, smiling.

"When are you going to tell your pretend boyfriend it's all over between you?" he called after her.

"He's not my pretend boyfriend."

"Honey, he's a Turner, and you're not 'The One.'"

She turned. "How do you know?"

"Because if you were, Nate would've gotten you down that aisle five minutes after he'd met you. I worked it out after your first date with him." He strolled forward and propped one elbow up against the door of the barn. "Which means you haven't been going out with him for months."

She raised her chin at a challenging angle. "Maybe he's changed his mind and is giving it a try."

"Nah." He slowly shook his head. "Turners don't do that. My best guess is he's seeing you because he wants to mess with my head."

"So you think this is all about you, Blue Morgan?"

"Possibly."

"Well, you're wrong." She started walking again. "Maybe Nate wanted to marry me immediately, and I put the brakes on. Or don't you think anyone would want to marry me?"

He paused. That was one hell of a leading question, and one no prudent man would ever answer directly unless he wanted to be the one either walking up the aisle or being dumped on his ass.

"I don't think Nate Turner wants to marry you. But then, he's an idiot."

She leaned over the wall to count the piglets that had come running out to see what was going on. One of them had a patch of white tape over one ear, and she leaned in and competently scooped the piglet up. His little hooves scrabbled against her chest as she checked him over and them dumped him back in the sty. Her yellow T-shirt was now covered in pig shit, but she didn't seem to care.

What a woman.

Blue looked down into the angry eyes of the massive sow and hastily turned away. "How's the piglet?"

"Looking good." She turned away and walked toward the small barn. "I'm just going to wash my hands."

Not relishing the stench coming from the pigs, Blue followed her into the barn and waited by the door as she scrubbed away at her hands and arms. Roy's truck was missing from the front of his house, and so were his horse and dogs.



       
         
       
        

"Where's Roy?"

"Counting the herd with Ruth and then going to town to get some cash out of the bank. He'll be back around four." Jenna dried her hands. "I said I'd leave him a note about the piglet."

Blue turned toward the house. The back door was unlocked, and the coolness of the air inside was already welcome. He had no worries about invading Roy's space. He'd been running in and out of the house since he was a kid and had treated it like a second home. In fact, when things had gotten bad with his parents, he and his brothers had practically lived down here.

He opened the old refrigerator. "Want some lemonade?"

Jenna had come in behind him. "Won't Roy mind?"

"Nah. He'd be cross if we didn't help ourselves." He found two plastic glasses adorned with oranges and filled them with liquid. "I remember Roy getting these cups back in the 1990s. He saved up orange juice coupons or something. We helped him collect them."

Jenna was sitting at the table writing something on a pad. He put the glass beside her and took a seat.

"Thanks." She looked up briefly and took a long drink from the glass. "That's good. It's getting hot out there."

Blue rubbed his fingers through the condensation gathering on his glass and appreciated the quiet hum of the air-conditioning Chase had recently insisted on having installed for Roy. He glanced over at Jenna, but she was still contemplating the note she was writing.

"Hey, while you've got your pen out, write Nate a Dear John letter."

She met his gaze. "You are relentless, you know that? Like a tank."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Then go away and crush something else."

He sipped at his lemonade. "You don't look very crushed to me."

"Ha ha." She pointed her pen at him. "You are incorrigible."

"There you go with the big words again." He pretended to sigh. "I can only assume that means something bad."

"You scored over seven hundred on your SAT. Don't pretend to be a hick."

"Who told you that?"

"Guess." She returned her attention to the note and signed it. "Are you ready to go now, or do you have other stuff to do here?"

He stood up and walked around the table and held out his hand. "I'm good."

She looked up at him. "No, you are not good. You are a bad influence on me."

"Why?"

"Because you make me want . . ." She stopped and shook her head. "That's it, really."

"I make you want? What?" 

"Things I can't have."

"You're going to have to be a bit more specific here, Jenna. Like what?"

She rose to her feet, but he didn't step back crowding her space a little. He wrinkled his nose.

"Damn, that's too bad."

"What?"

"I was going to kiss you, but . . ." He poked her in the sternum. "Your T-shirt stinks."

He'd never seen a bosom actually heave before, but Jenna's eyes flashed and the next second she was pulling her T-shirt right over her head, balling it up, and throwing it at his face.

"That better?"

When the T-shirt fell off his nose to the floor, he let his gaze travel slowly down from her face to her nice blue bra and then lower to her belly. "Yeah. Much."

She bent to pick up the T-shirt and brushed past him, heading for Roy's guest bathroom. "I've got a couple of shirts in the closet. I'll wash up and be out in a minute."

Blue finished his lemonade and contemplated the splashy noises coming from the bathroom. When Jenna reappeared and went into the room next door, he set his glass back down on the table and followed her.

"Knock, knock."

She gasped and crossed her hands over her chest. "What are you doing in here?"

"I thought you might like a second opinion on the state of your bra. You wouldn't want to put a clean shirt on over something that still stunk, would you?"

"My bra is fine, thank you."

He leaned back against the door frame. "I hate to disagree with you about anything, Jenna darlin', but how can you tell? You didn't even notice you smelled like pig shit."

"I washed up."

He took a step toward her and then another, but she didn't tell him to back off. He stopped an arm's length away and slowly raised his hand until his index finger rested right on the cute little bow at the center of her bra between her rounded breasts.

"Nice." His appreciative gaze traveled over her now tight nipples. "Very nice."

"And not smelling of anything but me, okay?"

He deliberately took a deep breath. "I like the way you smell."

She made a small despairing noise. "This is so unfair."

"You know, you're right. It is." Still holding her gaze he reached down, grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, and stripped it over his head. "Does this make it better?"

"Good Lord, yes . . ." Her hand came to her mouth. "I mean no, that's just-is that a tattoo?"

He flexed his right bicep. "Yeah."

"Semper f i."

"Always faithful."

She nodded. "It kind of suits you."

"Thanks." He took her hand and placed it on his arm right over the tat. "I have another one."

She scanned his chest and arms. "Is it on your back?"

He turned a full circle to let her check. "Nope."

"Then where?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not telling. You have to write that letter to Nate first."

"That's so not happening." Her gaze dropped to his lower half. "Which is good, because I don't think I can take much more of you."