Page 24 of All for You

I want to do much more than flirt, especially after tasting her out by the barn. But I’ll take what I can get, go at her speed, even if it’s zero to sixty and back to zero before she can commit to forty.

“Perhaps,” I drawl, matching her playful energy. “Is it working?”

“Could be, cowboy.” Her cheeks tint with a flush, making my heart kick against my ribcage like a wild bronco.

And just like that my cock is hard again. The urge to lean in and taste her nearly overwhelms me.

But I remember Mother is watching.

“Good to know.” I step back to let her roll up the window. “Let me drive you home.”

As she climbs out of the car, I take her hand to help, and damn if that simple touch doesn’t sear straight through me. There is no mistaking it—I am in deeper than I’d planned. I never felt this kind of immediate attraction toward Amelia. That woman chased me for weeks before I gave her the time of day.

As I walk Rachel to my pickup, knowing full well that Mother is taking mental notes, I can’t help feeling a surge of defiance. Because whatever this is between Rachel and me, it’s too powerful to ignore, too hot to douse with reason or restraint.

I open the door to my truck, a custom beast that is more polished chrome and leather than anything else. The interior gleams with the care I put into it to keep it nicer than the beater I use around the farm.

“Nice ride,” she remarks, as I boost her into the passenger seat, her dress hugging her curves in a way that makes my mouth dry because I managed to get my hands on her legs again.

Keeping myself in check around her is not an easy task. “Thanks,” I grunt, closing the door behind her and circling to the driver’s side. The engine roars to life with an easy turn of the key, and a deep diesel purr vibrates through the cab.

As I drive slowly down the gravel driveway to the road, I study her as she quietly looks at the cattle grazing near the fence line. I spot a hawk circling lazily overhead. The familiar sights of my land stretch around us, a constant in my life when so much else has changed. Does Rachel see beauty in it, or is it just another patch of Texas dirt to her?

“Beautiful, ain’t it?” I ask, following her gaze.

“Stunning.”

Her single-word response leaves me wondering what’s going through her mind. Does she truly appreciate the rugged beauty, or is she just being polite? I want to know more, to understand how she sees my world. I want her to love it as much as I do.

As we drive back toward town, rolling hills stretch out on either side, dotted with cattle slowly heading back to their barns for the night. Towering oak trees line fence posts, gnarled branches reaching out over the road like protective arms.

Rachel’s profile is silhouetted against the setting sun. “Have you ever seen Texas bluebonnets in bloom?”

She shakes her head. “Can’t say that I have.”

“Shame. They’re a sight to behold come spring.”

A family of deer emerges from a thicket on the road ahead of us, their ears twitching at the sound of the truck and the beam of the headlights.

Rachel leans forward, her breath catching. “Oh, look!”

I slow the truck, giving her a better view. Seeing someone so genuinely excited by everyday sights is refreshing. For a moment, I see Cupid’s Creek and my family’s ranch through her eyes, and it’s like seeing it anew.

The doe leads her twin fawns across the road, their spindly legs prancing in the tall grass. We pass old man Johnson’s place, his rickety mailbox tilting precariously to one side. His ancient bloodhound lounging on the porch, barely lifting his head as we drive by.

The winding road hugs the contours of the land, revealing new vistas with each turn. Wildflowers pepper the roadside in vibrant colors along with delicate primrose. A roadrunner darts across our path, disappearing into the scrub brush on the other side.

As we near town, the landscape gradually shifts. Sprawling ranches give way to smaller plots of land dotted with modest homes and the occasional small business—a garage, fabric store, farm supplies and equipment, even a bed and breakfast.

Desperation rushes over me to prolong this drive and keep Rachel here in the moment where everything feels simpler. The thought unsettles me.

I glance at her, then turn left. “Your day off is tomorrow, right? How ‘bout you come over for that riding lesson? I’ll pick you up.”

“Really?” She turns to me and bounces in her seat, her grin ear to ear. “I’d love that.”

“Settled then.” A smile tugs at my lips, unbidden but not unwelcome, feeling a warmth spread through my chest.

That warmth is quickly followed by a jolt of panic, though, and I laugh internally at the irony. A little while ago I was lamenting about Rachels inability to commit, and here I am thinking I’m getting in too deep, letting her affect me in ways I swore I never would again. Fuck, if I’m not as confused as she must be by lusting after her and still wanting to maintain some distance. Clearly, old habits die hard. Part of me wants to keep her at arm’s length. Safer that way. Less chance of getting burned again. But as I stare at the excitement in her face, I can’t bring myself to regret my offer.

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