True Love at Silver Creek Ranch(27)

He played cards with the widows, amazed at how they had perfected the art of cheating on each other. Then he went to bed early, so Brooke wouldn’t start work without him.





Chapter Six





But it wasn’t Brooke he worked with, it was Josh’s turn to train the greenhorn. Once again, they fed cattle, and Adam felt a bit more in control. He never saw Brooke at all.

He did get a chance to spend time with Lou Webster that afternoon, familiarizing himself with the sleigh-ride business. Tourists parked in the main yard, by a sign marked SLEIGH RIDES. When they rang the bell, Lou came from the barn or truck shed, wherever he was working. After money was exchanged, the horses hitched, and the sleigh driven around, the guests were offered warm blankets. Adam climbed up and took the ride, memorizing the trails Lou followed, watching him handle the reins that guided the pair of horses, all while the old man instructed him in the art. When they left the open pasture and headed into a stand of trees beside the creek, he could hear snow plop from the branches, along with the cheerful jingle of the sleigh bells. Lou always had a story about the town when he was asked a question, and when the half-hour ride was over, their guests seemed genuinely pleased. After they’d gone, Lou spent another hour teaching him to handle the horses. By then, a young couple with a toddler arrived, and Adam did the driving, while Lou gave his advice.

On his third day at the ranch, he was with Brooke again in the retriever. This time a blizzard raged all around them, but hungry cattle still had to eat. Loading hay bales when you could barely see was a chore in and of itself. They perched on top of the bales on the bed of the truck, where the wind whipped by. This time Adam didn’t fall, like he had the first day. He’d faced winter in the mountains of Afghanistan, and the heat of deserts—the weather was nothing new to him. But Brooke faced it every winter, year in and year out. He was too aware of her at his side as he mimicked her movements.

By the time they were finished at the second pasture, he couldn’t feel the tips of his fingers anymore even though they were buried in gloves. Once they were both back in the cab, shivering as the heat began to seep up their legs, he tried to pull his gloves off, but his hands didn’t want to work properly.

Brooke removed her hat, and he could see frost along her hairline where the hat hadn’t reached.

She frowned at his hands. “Those are your gloves, not ours, aren’t they? I was worried they weren’t going to hold up to the job.”

She scooted closer to him, tugged hard at his gloves until they came off, then clasped his hands together and put her own around them. The wind howled at the closed, frosted windows, the cattle bawled as they called each other to breakfast. But all those sounds faded as Adam found himself caught up in Brooke’s warm touch.

She glanced up at him, and he didn’t look away. Her dark lashes were damp from melting snow, her cheeks as pink as her lips from the cold. Her hazel eyes changed with her mood, and now they were almost green with an intensity that wrapped itself around him and wouldn’t let go. His heart lurched. He didn’t know if it was because he had forbidden himself from getting involved with her—or simply because it had been so long since he’d gone to bed with a woman.

And before he knew it, his mouth was on hers. He didn’t know who’d leaned forward first—and he didn’t care. All his rational thought was swept away by lust. He tasted shared hunger, felt her mouth open to his. He met her tongue with his own, swirled around it, explored her mouth. He heard a groan of need and realized it was his.

Brooke was flooded by desire, hot and heavy in her veins. She wanted to fling herself against Adam and feel his body pressed to hers. She could imagine falling back on the bench, with him over her, all that masculinity overpowering with a delicious thrill.

She wanted to do all this on the front bench of retriever.

What was she doing?

She pushed against his chest, and they broke the kiss. They stared at each other, and his shock seemed as complete as hers.

“What was that?” she demanded in a hoarse whisper, then cleared her throat. “Why did you kiss me?”

“You kissed me,” he whispered back.

He was looking at her mouth with hunger, and that felt so wonderful she almost fell into his arms again.

Wait, wait, she didn’t want this to happen.

He seemed to come to his senses at the same time, and they both straightened back against their respective doors. How had rubbing his cold hands turned into such a hot kiss?

“I didn’t intend to do that,” he said at last.

“Me neither. And I won’t be doing it again.”

“No.”