One Night with a Cowboy (Paint River Ranch) (Entangled Indulgence) (2 page)

Chapter Two

When she’d left St. Paul, Minnesota two days ago, Sophie figured her fate in Missoula, Montana was pretty well pre-determined: be weighed down by guilt over her mother’s medical condition, and fight over a constant stream of stupid nothingness with her sister, Carla, as usual. Both proved true in the first hour she’d parked on Montana soil. She and Carla had never been particularly close; they were on opposite ends of the personality spectrum. When they combined, it usually resulted in a nuclear explosion.

Carla was never shy about reminding her how disappointed she was that Sophie didn’t come to Montana more to help with their mother. Sophie didn’t bother to remind her sister that she’d been working overtime in Minnesota in order to help pay for their mother’s medical bills, leftover credit card balances, and other expenses. Simply packing up and leaving her jobs hadn’t been feasible, but now that downsizing in the hospital system had robbed Sophie of her highest-paying gig, she wasn’t sure what to do. Her jobs had been her security, something she needed to function.

She’d had an interview at the Minneapolis Children’s Hospital for a unit coordinator position. If she landed that job, which would begin in a month, she was definitely going back. Something had to crop up soon. She’d used almost all of her savings to stay afloat after being let go.

Oh, life and its troubles. Thank goodness the hot cowboy next to her offered a very delectable distraction. She snuck him a look as they meandered up to the beer tent. The top of her head barely came to his chin and, if the impressive breadth of his shoulders and bulge of bicep under the pale blue shirt were any indication, the man was built hard. When he turned a little and gave her a perfect view of the strength of his back and tight ass, she had no doubt.

“What’ll ya have?” he glanced at her over his shoulder and Sophie’s insides melted a little. His slightly downturned eyes had a sleepy vibe, the irises an unusual swirl of dark emerald and blue. He flicked the toothpick over a pouty lower lip. His chin was pointed, nose straight with a blunt tip, his jaw strong and covered with a whisper of dark brown stubble. Self-doubt echoed inside her; he was tempting, and she really, really should be high-tailing it out of there. Her time in Montana would likely be short, and the last thing she needed was additional baggage when she returned to Minnesota. But when his brows raised, his lips curving into a crooked smile, it was a definite stay.

Damn.

“Budweiser,” she managed. He gave an approving nod, turning around a few moments later with two full plastic cups.

“Cheers.” He raised his glass.

A chunk of mahogany hair peeked out from under his hat. Sophie’s mouth went dry. “To?”

“To you, for being the best part of my day.” He tapped his glass against hers. Sophie laughed behind a sip.

“Oh, you’re smooth.” She flicked a drip of foam off the lip of the cup. He tracked the movement, the light in his eyes getting darker. He took a sip from his glass, never taking his gaze from hers.

“Canadian.” He said pointedly.

Sophie frowned. “Hmmm?” She took another sip. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a beer. Wine was her usual, but she regretted that a little because the beer was foamy heaven on her tongue.

“Your accent sounds Canadian.”

“Nope. But I get that a lot.” His face displayed that his mind was working out other possibilities as they walked out of the tent area and into the melee of carnival-goers. Music blasted from a band on stage mixed with the varied tinkling jingles of the rides.

“Wisconsin!” he smiled, proud of himself. That smile was cocky and sexy as hell.

“Hate to disappoint you, cowboy, but no. One last guess.” Was she flirting? It had been so long since she’d engaged socially with a man, she’d almost forgotten how. Sophie took a shaky drink.

“Do I win a prize if I’m right?” Smoke filled his eyes, turning the green/blue to an earthy dark shade. She didn’t answer, just mentally rolled around in the sensual look on his rugged face. Sophie’s neck burst into tingles and, despite rubbing a palm there, the sensation didn’t go away.

He took another drink. “Minnesota.”

Sophie saluted him with her cup, barely able to catch her breath to form words. “Ding, ding. You win. Very good.”

He smiled around the toothpick. She tried to look away, but brain and body communication was having a small malfunction. Back home, men mostly came from one of three groups: businessman, college student, or hipster. There were a few other types scattered into the mix, but no cowboys. From the stark white hat, to the dark jeans and the polished silver belt buckle that shone in the light enough to give a girl glitter-envy, this man pulled off cowboy really well.

He bumped into her arm, sending fire through her body. Sophie stumbled, sloshing beer on the ground. One big hand wrapped around her upper arm to steady her. She smiled up at him, feeling silly and way too flustered. She’d never been one to shy away from men, but lately, a date or even a passing thought of a hook-up had been the farthest thing from her mind. Stress made some people find randy outlets, like too much sex or alcohol. Her? She holed up in her apartment and stared at the television. She preferred to be alone when she was crabby and stressed—just her and the occasional cheap bottle of Arbor Mist.

Little fingernails of panic streaked down her spine at the hard warmth of Tucker’s touch. There was something sublimely familiar about this cowboy, and it caused a little voice inside her to scream
get
back in the game,
instead of
run away, stupid
. His fingers slid away from her skin, leaving a singed sensation behind. She rubbed her arm more to capture the sensation than to scrub it away. Sweet warmth spread in her lower belly as Tucker leaned down to her as if he was going to speak. Sophie moved a little closer to him in response. It wasn’t as if she’d come here looking for a man or a relationship. Hell no. She wasn’t staying in Montana…so a little closeness with Mr. Sex in Jeans wasn’t such a big deal, was it?

She was going with no.

“What’s your name? We kinda forgot that part.”

“Sophie.” She noticed how his right incisor jutted forward slightly, adding just enough sass to his otherwise perfect teeth. It jacked his cockiness through the roof. They passed a speaker blaring music and she wasn’t sure he’d heard her.

“Fifi?” His lips nearly touched her ear. The muscles in her legs turned pretty close to jelly at the near-contact. If what he’d said wasn’t so ridiculous, her body might have given in to the mush-effect and fallen in his arms. But she burst out with a laugh instead, shaking her head, as her body recovered.

“So-phie.”

That crooked smile got wider. He thrust out a hand, wrapped his fingers around her palm. “Tucker.”

Sophie groaned a little. Of course. A cowboy named Tucker who was hot as sin and probably an incredible eight-second ride. Wasn’t that the cliché? Living in the city her entire life meant she knew nothing about country boys, but she’d take cliché if it meant finding out how real it may or may not be. He looked the part so well, she was betting on real.

They rounded a curve of games, carnies calling out to them to try a few plays. “So about that prize.” Tucker’s eyes narrowed. Her gut flip-flopped.

“Prize?” Mmmm, her nerves were sparking at the thought of what a Tucker-prize might be.

“For guessing where you’re from.” He looked right at her mouth, moved in so the fabric of his shirt brushed against her breasts. Her nipples tightened in response. Sophie sucked in a breath and moved to take a step back, but never actually made it that far. The thoughts rolling around in her head were sinful. And tempting. And, by the sexy expression on Tucker’s face, highly possible.

“What did you have in mind?” She took a small sip to break the tension inside her. It didn’t work. Tucker stepped closer and took her chin in his hand. His thumb swept across the width of her mouth with a barely-there caress. The noise faded into a hazy blob, the lights tunneled into little polka dots around them. He stepped one breadth closer, leaving no question of his intention, his head dipping low. He was going to kiss her. She shouldn’t, really, but she was going to let him.

Oh yes, she was going to let him.

“Sophie!” Her sister’s irritated voice pulled Sophie back from the edge. She jerked away from Tucker as Carla nearly body-slammed them, pulling Ethan behind her. “I just called your cell.”

Before she could answer, Carla gave Tucker a distasteful once-over. “Hello.” She turned wide, accusing eyes on Sophie. Forcing her irritation down, Sophie wet her lips to keep from screaming. She wouldn’t make a scene in front of Tucker, no matter how much she might want to ram her fist in her sister’s face.

Funny how fast my sister can push my buttons.

“Sorry,” Sophie said neutrally. “I didn’t hear it over the noise.” She gave a small smile, but there was no diffusing Carla when she got like this.

“Sure,” Carla snapped. “You were
busy
.”

Sophie chose to ignore the juvenile whine in her sister’s voice. “Carla, I’m—“

“We’re leaving.”

Sophie rubbed her mouth with a hand, glancing at Tucker. He sipped his beer, watching the show with an inscrutable expression. To say this was embarrassing was an understatement. Sophie wanted to sink into the beer-soaked dirt and wave good-bye to the world. But as much as she knew she shouldn’t stay, she didn’t want to go. She needed some space after the long cross-country drive and the emotional flurry of the day. Whatever was going on between her and Tucker was alluring and warm and she needed that, too.

“I know my way. I’ll walk home later.” She’d been visiting this neighborhood three times a year for the past two years. Navigating her way back to Carla’s wasn’t a problem. Sophie squared her shoulders and faced Carla down. Her sister’s lips went rigid.

“Its fine, Carla.” She insisted. “Go ahead and take Ethan home.” Her sister shuffled a foot, maybe she stomped it. Sophie frowned in distaste. Despite being nearly forty, Carla was great at acting like a child.

“So
-phie
, you can’t go wandering around a strange city. You have no idea what might…”

Tucker cleared his throat and slid an arm around Sophie’s waist. She jumped at the unexpected contact, but found herself leaning into him. “I’ll make sure she gets home.” His voice was low and steady, the tone shocking in its finality. The protective edge to his tone unleashed a sensual longing deep in Sophie’s middle. Her shoulder pressed more firmly against Tucker’s side. Carla eyed them both, and then glanced at Ethan.

“Fine. But I’m locking the door. Keep your cell handy in case you need it.” She eyed Tucker pointedly before stomping off. Ethan glanced over his shoulder and waved. Sophie watched them disappear behind a row of tents.

Tucker let out a low whistle, tipping his hat back a little. “Your sister?” Sophie nodded.

Tucker gently gripped the fabric at her lower back. If her brain gave off any warning signals at all, Sophie didn’t hear them. A boon of danger sirens probably wouldn’t have done a thing. He had a comfortable ease that made him seem like a long-time friend.

“For your sake, I hope that’s your only sib—”

Sophie reached up on tiptoe, pulled the toothpick from his mouth and tossed it. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Chapter Three

Her lips were cool, but her mouth was hot, and the wicked opposites uncurled the little demon inside Tucker that demanded to be let out. The demon that wanted control, to gather her hard and steady in his arms, and trail his mouth all over her body. Sophie’s soft kiss and the light caress of her fingers over his neck called to Tucker in a way he couldn’t explain. Like two halves coming together. She was an out-of-towner, no doubt about it. Chances were, he’d never see her again, which meant he didn’t have to worry about either of them wanting more than one night.

He let her claim his mouth, momentarily forgetting they were standing in the middle of a crowded carnival. She fingered the nape of his neck, raising scorching tingles where she touched. When her teeth nipped his lower lip with the whisper of a touch, Tucker pulled back. If his jeans fit any smaller, he’d have a hell of a time walking out of here.

“Sophie.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice wasn’t very convincing, leading him to believe she wasn’t sorry one bit. Sophie touched her lower lip with her fingers and, for a moment, he thought she was going to wipe his kiss away. He was ridiculously glad when she didn’t. Tucker gripped her upper arms, smoothing his palms down the length to her elbows. Her bare flesh quivered under his hands.

“That’s too bad, because I’m not.”

That independent streak she’d displayed earlier seemed to have slipped away, leaving behind a softer, vulnerable version of her. He paused, hoping she wasn’t about to get regretful over one little kiss. He’d spent the majority of his life keeping other people’s emotions at arm’s length and he wasn’t about to embrace them now, no matter how alluring Sophie might be. When she glanced up with a radiant smile, relief flooded him with the shocking realization that he hadn’t wanted to end their time together so soon.

“I don’t usually go around kissing strange cowboys.” Her voice was thick with a chuckle that warmed him. He brushed her hair over one shoulder, so tempted to pull her back in and pick up where they’d left off. He traced the yellow bikini string with two fingers, relishing the way she shuddered under his touch.

“Nah, it’s normal. I have that effect on women.”

“Wow!” She laughed. “Cocky, much?”

“Nope. Confident. Big difference.” Before she could reply, he looped her arm through his and led her through the crowd. “So.” He glanced down at her, glad to see her face was still relaxed. “Too scared to get on another ride?”

“What?” Her fingers gripped his arm. He indicated to the left with a tip of his chin. Her eyes slid that way, her body tensing when she noticed the Ferris wheel. She was going to refuse; would probably say it was time for her to get going. Tucker’s eyes narrowed just a bit. It would probably be better that way. Sophie was not his normal type, but hell if he didn’t enjoy having her next to him. He did, too much apparently, since his brain was tiptoeing past the one-night only rule and conjuring up a plan to ask her out.

He didn’t date. What was he thinking? Having his heart run through a grinder and handed to him on a silver platter three years ago was enough of a reminder why he didn’t pursue anything beyond a one-night stand. And even those were turning into too much trouble. That he was forgetting his own rule right now was as concerning as it was terrifying. Still, he didn’t want to let Sophie walk away.

“You really want to get puked on, don’t you?” Her voice pulled him back. Sophie made a half turn to look at the Ferris wheel head on, giving Tucker a view of the long column of her throat, and the softly defined rise of her cheekbone and delicate jaw. Her toned arms crossed over her soft breasts, the feminine curve of her back leading to hips he wanted to trace with his palms.

“Okay.” Her voice was soft, but resolute.

“Hmmm?” Tucker drifted with the unwelcome thoughts rolling around in his head. “Yeah.” He snapped out of it. “Ok, come on.” He urged her forward, but her feet didn’t move. Tucker gave her hand an encouraging tug and she hurried forward.

“You won’t get sick.” He gathered her against his side, liking how easily she leaned in to let him support her as he bought two tickets. Her shoulders tensed and he was pretty sure she was talking herself into getting on. The way her brow dipped and her lips jerked to one side was comical and cute. And sexy.

“How can you be sure?”

“I’m confident, remember?”

She shook her head. “Cocky.” A few minutes later, they were seated. Sophie wedged against his hip like they’d been plated together, her fingers digging into his bicep with a death grip. He gently removed her hands as the wheel started to move so he could slip his right arm around her shoulders and pull her in tight. A shiver went through him, like refreshing snow inside a cavern that had been dark and empty too long. She fit perfectly under his arm, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, fingers digging into his shirt. Even terrified, Sophie was perfect. Without giving it any thought, he snuggled her in.

He tensed when he realized what he was doing. He wasn’t a cuddler. He could barely bring himself to offer his family members a hug now and then. The only female who got his undivided affection was his six-year-old niece, Birdie, and that was because she was wicked cute and irresistible. Family aside, he didn’t get close to people. He supposed there wasn’t any harm in holding Sophie for a bit. Not like he was going to make cuddling a habit.

The wheel went around three turns before their chair rotated to the very top and stopped. Lights from downtown Missoula were shinning below. Above them, the night sky was an expanse of black velvet punched with sparkling little lights. The moon and stars were brilliant despite the reflection of city lights that crept up into the ink.

“Sophie, look.” Tucker tapped beneath her chin to get her attention. She didn’t relax her grip, but moved her head to glance up at him. He pointed to the skyline. “Look.”

She sat a little straighter with a soft exclamation that thrilled him. Encased in shadow created by the moon, a mountain range rose in muted black and dark blue in the near distance, two peaks reaching high and wide like spread hands cupping the crescent moon.

“It’s beautiful!”

Tucker glommed onto his self-satisfaction. “I figured you get sick because you’re scared. Take away the scared, take away the sick.”

She looked at him with parted lips. “What?”

Tucker shrugged, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. “Are you scared?”

Sophie glanced around, her fingers loosening a little on his shirt. “N-no.”

“Are you sick?”

Another pause and she smiled. “No.” Just then the wheel lurched to begin its descent. She shouted and grabbed him again. Tucker laughed and held her tight, liking how her muscles were soft and pliable against him—how her tight grip on his arm made him feel needed. It had been a long, long time since he’d been needed by anyone but his family, or even wanted to be. He should have been uneasy right now, with Sophie in his arms, making him experience…
something,
besides just plain lust. He couldn’t place what it was, not that it mattered. He was going to enjoy it before it was time to walk away.

This really had turned into a helluva good day.

…

Despite past experiences, Sophie wasn’t nauseous or light-headed when they stepped off the Ferris wheel. Exhilaration pumped through her along with a sense of triumph that she’d conquered her fear, at least this time. Tucker’s sideways, smug glances and crooked grin elevated her mood even more. There was a little boy behind that rugged cowboy exterior, she was pretty sure. Truth be told, she would have been happy being scared for the entire ride. Having her face buried in his shirt was a small slice of heaven. His chest was warm and rock solid and he smelled incredible. The fact that he’d made her comfortable with just a touch and reassuring voice floored her.

“You have cowboy super powers,” she teased as they walked down an aisle of games.

“I’d like to believe I just have the special touch.” He lightly pinched her upper arm with a wink. Heat flushed her cheeks. This was good. This felt good. She hadn’t had a moment’s peace lately. When she wasn’t scrambling to find a job to support herself and help Carla with their mom’s medical bills, she was agonizing over her dwindling bank account. It was time she did something for herself, and keeping Tucker’s company a little while longer was it. The buzz in her blood wasn’t from the beer, that’s for sure. The sound of his voice caused that, and the tilt of his eyes and his clean scent of soap and spice. Tucker was a hot-cowboy cocktail and she wanted a narrow straw so she could enjoy him, and the buzz, as long as possible.

A streak of red raced by, ramming into Sophie’s leg. A small boy in a red and black striped shirt bounced off her thigh, and landed in the dirt with an ice cream cone upside down on his chest. Sophie jumped, maneuvering her feet to avoid crashing over him. The little boy looked at her in shock, his arms going wide as mashed ice cream rolled down the front of his shirt.

Tucker knelt down. “You all right?”

Maybe six or seven, the boy steadied his lips and scowled, an attempt to not cry, Sophie figured. He took Tucker’s hand and stood, peeling the ice cream off his shirt.

“Fine.” He replied stubbornly. “’cept my sister is going to be mad. That was hers.”

“I’m sorry. Did I step in your way?” Sophie dug around in her bag, pulled out a tissue and wiped at his shirt.

“No. I ran into you.”

Tucker gave an approving nod and slid one big hand on the boy’s small shoulder. “That’s pretty honest of you to tell it like it is. Come on; let’s get your sister some new ice cream.” Sophie didn’t miss the tender way Tucker regarded the child, his manner easy like he was dealing with another man instead of an eight-year-old.

The boy shook his head, brown curls flopping. “I don’t have no more money.”

Tucker urged him toward the ice cream truck. “Good thing I do then, huh?” The little boy smiled and Sophie’s heart melted. She roved Tucker with slow eyes, clinging to the way the sight of him made her insides go crazy. When a flash of desire shot through her, there was no chastising internal dialogue to slow it down. She couldn’t think of a single reason not to go with the ache in her body right now. Tucker was gorgeous, and kind and cocky and…amazing.

A few minutes later, the boy gave a happy “thank you” and walked off with two new ice cream cones. Tucker looked pretty pleased with himself.

“Ice cream, Sophie?”

Shaking her head, she caught his eyes and held them. His expression grew serious. He took her hand and walked backward, pulling her toward him as he moved them out of the ice cream line. Her heart raced as she licked her lower lip, willing her nerves to settle, knowing there wasn’t a chance that was going to happen. She was jacked up; every part of her hyper-aware of the need he’d unlocked in her. Tucker had flipped some primal switch with his blatant masculinity and affectionate manner that called to her inner cavewoman. She couldn’t look away any more than she could make the ache between her legs stop.

He gave her hand a firm yank, pulling her into his space where the heat of his torso washed over her. Sophie exhaled to steady herself.

“What
do
you want?” Tucker’s voice was so low she wasn’t sure she’d heard him. But then his hand cradled the back of her head, fingers running through her hair, and she knew she’d heard him perfectly clear. What did she want? How about a couple sweet hours in his arms to help her remember she was still a woman, a young woman, with dreams, and needs, and desires that had been buried beneath the heavy hands of responsibility and insecurity? One night with a sexy cowboy before she had to face her sister, her mother, and the reality of her life tomorrow.

Sophie stepped into his space and pressed against him. A low groan rumbled from his throat and straight through her chest. His fingers dug into her scalp as his lips pressed into hers, hot, firm, and heavy and exactly what she wanted.

What she needed.