Page 52 of Wrangled Up

“Oh? Seems you might want to get back and see what’s happening on your ranch, nephew.” With that, Leon clicked off.

The roar of frustration erupted from Tucker’s chest. He hurled his phone to the bed and paced three more rapid-fire loops around the room. Then he sank slowly to the bed andstared at his hands. Hands that should be caring for his own animals and crops.

And caring for Claire.

He drew a deep gulp of air and lay back on the mattress again to find new letters in the plaster of the ceiling.

A pair of C’s taunted him—so close yet so far away.

Chapter Eight

The sweet fragrances of Claire’s citrus shampoo and female arousal stimulated Christian all over again as he leaned over her. She was curled on her side, dark curls mashed to her cheek and rose lips parted in sleep.

He hovered over her for a moment, drowning in her scents and battling the need to jump back into bed with her. But dawn was a bright prick on the horizon, and it was time to take care of the stock.

He trailed his lips over her temple, and she roused.

“Stay in bed this morning, sweetheart. Sleep in and I’ll do the chores.”

She mewed in reply and tilted her face up to his. He stared at her closed eyes, the dark webs of her lashes and her full, smiling pout.Unable to wait until she was fully awake, he swooped in for a kiss.

Her lips gave under his, and she opened to him, somehow tasting delicious even after sleep. He dipped his tongue into her mouth, his cock distending instantly with the need to sink into her hot body.

She lifted a fist and twisted his shirt, directly over his heart.

A grunt left him as he held her face in one hand. Emotions filtered into his head, telling him exactly what he should do.Claim her. Take her. Cherish her forever.

Yesterday she’d asked him to hang a blinged-out name sign on Boomerang’s pen. And while he drilled holes in the wood and screwed it to the wooden fence, she’d hitched herself up on the rail and watched. Smooth legs dangling inches from his face as he crouched to work.

Something about that moment would live forever in his heart, because it was so real. He wanted to do crazy things for her for the rest of his life.

He slowed the kiss, nuzzled her little upturned nose. “Sleep, baby.”

“Okay,” she murmured and turned back onto her side, immediately drifting off.

Christian stared down at her for a full minute. How had it happened in such a short time? In his past, he’d counted himself in love twice before, but this was a helluva lot different. That hitch in his heart had nothing to do with a slow tumble into love. This was a desperate need to possess and to make her love him back.

His shirt was still crumpled from her hold on it. He smoothed his hand over the spot, just to touch something she’d touched.

With a shit-eating grin on his face, he quietly eased out of the bedroom, walked down the hall and let himself out of the house. Letty would have a warm crock pot of oatmeal ready for him, but he would face it later. Right now, he wanted to get these horses cared for. Recently, he’d spotted one in the upper field limping.

He ran through his daily routine with the chickens and the horses in the barn. Later, he’d turn the few in the barn out to pasture. He had no idea if this was an action Tucker would approve of, but Claire had advised it, and Tucker wasn’t here to say differently.

The air was crisp this morning, tinged with autumn. He drew it into his lungs and savored the turn of seasons. Even though the change brought new dilemmas, such as how to harvest fields of corn. Claire and Letty could deal with the kitchen garden, but those forty acres of corn worried the hell out of him.

Up in the field, he slowly moved toward the glimmering brown body of the limping horse. It moved gingerly along the fence line.

He approached with care, taking in the lines of the horse’s back and haunches. All looked well. Its head was down, though, and that was different.

As he progressed through the pasture, he started talking to the horse, just as Claire did. “I’m here to see what’s up with that hoof, boy. Is it sore?”

The other horses were clustered in the bottom of the field, grazing. But this one was all alone. A stallion. Huge and intimidating.

Christian preferred heavy equipment to big-bodied animals, but at the moment, this was his gig, so he’d roll with it.

For how long, though?

He pulled a hoof pick out of his back pocket and eased up to the animal. “Hey boy. I’m going to check on this back hoof. Clean it out and make sure it’s all right.”

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