Page 21 of Wrangled Up

Claire’s curls bounced with a tremble and in one step, Christian was with her, hauling her into his arms. He burrowed his face against her neck, dragging in deep draughts of her feminine scent, which was mixed with his own and Tucker’s.

Damn that man to hell for leaving her.

“Where’s Tucker?” she asked against his shoulder.

When Christian couldn’t find the words, she pulled free of his embrace and looked him square in the face. “I should have known he’d do this…” Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall and break Christian’s heart.

Trouble was, it was already cracked. A single tear would be the end of him. Using his thumbs to catch any drops before they tumbled down Claire’s satiny cheeks, he searched her gaze. Tried to convey that somehow, they’d be all right if they stuck together.

She shook her head and backed away from him. “He has holes in him, the kind you can’t mend,” she whispered, repeating the words he’d spoken days before.

“Yes,” Christian said raggedly.

“And he’s gone.”

“Gone,” he echoed, staring past her and through the window that framed the rolling pastures. Horses began to circle as a herd, restless for food and care that Christian was clueless about how to provide. He was equally lost as to how to make Claire whole again.

He continued to stare outside as the coffee pot hissed its finish.

“I’ll need a ride to the diner so I can get my car,” she whispered.

Christian turned. “Not yet. I…Tucker asked me to take care of his animals, but I don’t know how.”

Her brow crinkled. “How is it a man in these parts doesn’t know how to feed and water animals?”

He swiped a hand through the air. “I’m an asphalt cowboy. My dad’s an asphalt cowboy. Mom’s a banker. I’ve only ever been around dogs for any length of time.”

Her chest heaved with a sob-laugh. “Well, it isn’t much different.”

Stretching a hand toward her, he clasped her fingers. “We’ll work together.”

What would he do if she walked out? Not only would he be left to stumble through daily ranch chores, but he was just as fucking lost without Tucker as she was.

As if feeling this too, she met his gaze and nodded. “But I don’t have any jeans or boots. I only have my uniform…” Her words trailed off. Was she recalling their session in the diner booth last night?

Christian swallowed hard. “Tucker has belts. Rubber boots. We’ll come up with something.”

After some digging, they unearthed a pair of clean jeans. When Christian tossed them to Claire, the scent of the owner wafted out.

Claire froze. Her gaze dropped. Then she eased her feet into the leg holes, heedless of the fact that she wasn’t wearing panties. Where had they left them anyway? She fastened the button and zipper, but the denim hung off her hips. “Belt?”

“Yeah.” Christian pulled his attention from her and rooted around in the closet. Three belts hung there. One cracked brown leather that had seen better days. Tucker had worn it during some of their first sessions together.

He shook himself.

The second belt had a big buckle that would swallow half of Claire’s midsection and sported the stamp of some rodeo from four years ago. The last belt was a thin strip of black. The glossy leather would have been worn with a suit. To a funeral.

Christian grabbed the cracked leather and Claire accepted it. He watched her feed the end into the belt loops. When she cinched it around her narrow waist, he smiled. Then she knotted the loose ends of the flannel shirt, creating an instant shape to her womanly form.

“Boots?” she prompted, and he realized he’d been staring.

“Right.” He led the way out of the bedroom. In the entryway, a metal tray was tucked against the wall, holding boots. He plucked the pair of rubber boots into one hand and flipped them over. “Size ten. It’s all we’ve got. I’d give you mine, but they’re an eleven.”

She dropped her gaze from the boots to his crotch for a second. A flush washed over her, but she ducked to put the boots on, effectively avoiding his stare.

Dressed and ready for chores, she paused on the front porch. The land was awakening,the clouds banked and every drop of rain seeming grayer than the next.

“When will he come back?” Her words were low.

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