Page 15 of Baker
I had to smile. There was something about that soft Yankee accent wrapped around such a blatant come-on that made me feel lighter.
“Not sure I’m all that glorious,” I replied as I gently slid my hand from his. “Damn fine horse, though.”
“That she is. I’d offer you some coffee, but I’m hesitant to build a fire so close to the trees. I do have some juice boxes if you’d like to crack one open and visit for a while?”
“Sure, just for a spell. Prissy could use a rest.” That was a lie. We’d not ridden hard at all. It was a poke-along ride just to clear my head of the family nonsense.
“Then pull up a stump.” We ducked down to enter his little nook. “I’ve been here a few days. There’s a herd of whitetails that visit the creek every morning at dawn, and today I finally captured them. Sit.” He motioned to a dark old round chunk of wood, probably left here years ago when someone had been cutting firewood. I sat, and he lowered himself on a similar knotted castoff.
“Did I scare them off?” I asked, glancing out at the pasturelands.
“No, they’d left. Something spooked them. Last night, I heard a mountain lion calling for a mate.”
“Could be,” I answered as I sat with a grunt. My knees were just about tucked under my chin. Hanley chuckled. “Hobbit seats,” I tossed out as he rummaged in his rucksack. “Hopefully it was a male and he’ll move on. We’re bringing in some new cattle and goats soon. I’m not overly worried about the cattle, but if we let the goats graze with the beefers, then that could be problematic.”
“Would you shoot it?” he asked. I nodded. “Pity. I fully understand if it preys on your livestock, but they are such gorgeous animals. Perhaps it could be trapped and relocated if it were to become a problem?” He passed me a box of grape juice. “They’re protected in this state, right? So if he would become a problem, he could be moved.”
“Maybe. ?Course then he possibly becomes a problem to some other rancher, so hopefully he was just cruising.”
“Here’s hoping that big cat moves on.”
We tapped boxes. I felt a fool sitting on a damp chunk of wood in a copse of redbuds sipping juice out of a bright purple box. The little straw did nothing to make me feel more manly. We drank in a chilly and cumbersome silence. I’d never really been good at small talk. Right now, that lack of social skills was painfully obvious.
“So, did you ride out here on cowboy business or to visit with me? Both are acceptable answers and are not mutually exclusive.” His jade eyes twinkled. This man didnothave any problem with small talk or flirting.
“I was checking fences.”
“Damn, I’m crestfallen. Here I was hoping that you’d come out to check on me. Gets lonely out here on the range with only the dogies for company.”
Yeah, I knew all about lonely. “There are no dogies on this property right now.”
“Okay then it’s lonely out here with only the deer and the antelope for company. Better?” I bobbed my head. He chuckled. “Stickler for details, I see.”
“Sometimes,” I replied as I pulled my sight from his scraggly brown-blond beard. The hair on his face was a touch darker than the thick locks on his head.
“And a man of few words. I like that. Adds to the mystery.” He gave me a tilted smile that sent a rush of heat to my midsection. “Want to see some of the images I’ve captured so far?”
“Yeah, I would like that.” I just then thought to remove my hat. Granny would have given my ear a tug for not doing so when I had sat down. Not that this little hideaway under the redbuds was a sitting room or anything…
“I’ve not sorted through the ones I took today.” He wiggled past me, his ass brushing my shoulder, to grab his camera off the tripod. I could have turned my head and nipped his backside, but I bit down on the inside of my cheek instead. Maybe he would have been okay with a playful soft bite on his derriere, seeing how frisky he seemed to be. Then again, maybe he was just one of those outgoing sorts. When he returned, he dragged his chunk of wood closer. So close his thigh and arm were pressed to mine. I could smell the lingering scent of his soap—something with some cedarwood and citrus—mixed in with the smell of man. That second aroma was not anything unpleasant at all. Earthy and masculine with a uniqueness that was all Hanley. It was inviting and provocative. “There will be a lot of crap shots,” he mumbled as the LCD screen lit up and he started sifting through the images.
To be honest, not a one looked to be crap to my eyes. Not that I was a professor of photography or anything, but I did know a nice wildlife shot when I saw it.
“That one there is really nice,” I spoke up when an image of two does on alert came up. The sun was just rising, which made their dull gray-brown winter coats glisten with specks of gold as the fresh daylight picked up their hairs of new reddish-brown that were growing in. Their summer coats would be thinner to allow for maximum heat loss. It gets damn hot in Oklahoma during picnic season. “I like how you can see the mist of their breath. And their eyes are so big and pretty.”
“Much like yours.”
I felt my cheeks warm as I turned to look at him. What I planned to say was a mystery. Baker Bastian was not the king of witty comebacks. Didn’t matter what words did or did not blunder their way out of my mouth because when my sight touched his, talking seemed irrelevant. His eyes were glorious. Like some smooth jade stones I’d once seen in a necklace at a tribal celebration at the reservation a few years ago. I could see flecks of gold in the dark green irises. The bluebird continued to sing out for a mate. I wet my lips. His gaze fell to my mouth, then rose back to grab mine once more.
“You know I would be fully down to crawling into my tent with you to while away an hour or so,” he offered, his voice smoky as a winter chimney and just as warm. “Not that I’m trying to seduce you into letting me prowl your lands with my camera. My agent said all the rights have been secured with you.” I nodded. And sat there like a cold toad blinking as my head and body had this massive wrestling match. Go into the tent. Ride away. Go into the tent. Ride away. Deep down, in the logical part of my gray matter, I knew riding off would probably be the correct thing to do. I was not in a good place mentally for a new relationship. Yes, I was working the program well and felt strong in my sobriety so the standard advice to avoid romantic entanglements was a moot point, I felt. I was not swapping one addiction for another or anything like that. I was just in a chaotic situationwith every other damn aspect of my life. So yeah, starting a thing with someone was ill-advised for many reasons. Knowing all of that, I still leaned over to place my mouth to his and was rewarded with a low hum of pleasure.
“Is that a yes?” he asked, his lips brushing over mine with each soft word.
“Yes,” I whispered. His hands flew to my hair. Where the camera went, I didn’t know, nor did I care at that moment. Sitting on stumps while trying to make out was not cutting it so in sync we dropped from the stumps to the ground, kneeling in the soft loam, as our mouths slanted this way and that, seeking depth and fire. My cock was harder than locust and leaking in my shorts already. Hanley wasted no time. Mouth still locked to mine, he leaned into me, putting all his weight behind a gentle nudge that sent us both tumbling through the open door of the tent. We fell onto a thick sleeping bag.
“Shit, sorry,” he panted, but I had no clue or care what he was sorry about. Not one damn thing that he was doing required an apology. I went to my back, arms tight around his middle, and let him fall between my legs. I grabbed his head and led his mouth back to mine. He tasted of grape juice and lust. Something poked me in the lower back as he sprawled over me, his hands bracing his arms, palms on either side of my head. I licked into his mouth with wild desperation. I needed this. Badly. Insanely. Whatever happened here was a breath of life into an existence that had been sad and bitter for too long. I would take what he was willing to give me and run with it after we were done. “God you are a wiry thing.”
He gave my lower lip a tug with white teeth, then sat back, his lips puffy and red, to run his hands over my chest.
