Page 12 of Roped By the Cowboy
Jillian walks away to talk, her voice quiet, her posture agitated. It pisses me off. Not just because she is hiding from me. Because whatever they’re talking about has her on edge. Watching her pace, twirl her damp hair, even laughing changes my mind about that. What she is doing is looks a hell of a lot like flirting with another man.
Yanking my jeans up, I stuff myself back in them, mumbling a string of curses. I have no right to be jealous. No right to be upset. I repeat it in my head until it almost sounds true. Until she turns to look at me as they talk. How she is watching me as she talks makes my heart double time.
Giving up my pity party, I go to her. I want to make it clear her past does not bother me. Not her former husband or her little girl. None of it would run me off. Nothing could run me off from a woman like Jillian. Hesitating, I tilt my head at her, asking her ok to come invade her space.
“Can I....” I trail off as she takes two big steps to press against my chest. Sighing, I cradle her close, kissing the top of her head.
“Tell her I love her. Tell her to have the best time with papa. Yes, with you too, Elliot. I miss her so much, but she needs time with daddy.”
Damp skin pressed to mine; she rubs her cheek against my chest. I reach up, swiping at her tears without needing to see them. I tighten my hold on her, imagining how hard it must be to be separated from her little girl. It is new for her. New for a toddler who adores both her parents. I kick myself for being such a jealous asshole a moment ago.
If I wanted to show her past was not an issue I failed that task miserably. How could I have been so childish? Jillian has been here less than twenty-four hours. Her time with her husband, with her daughter, is no comparison. I should never have gotten so wound up over a simple call.
“I miss her. Jocie would love it here. Just the way I loved being at my papa’s place as a little girl,” she mumbles against my chest, her hands locked behind my neck, fingers combing through my hair.
It could be just another moment of a dozen special moments with this woman. It is a hell of a lot more. Hearing her talk about life on the ranch, on this ranch, pleasing someone she loves makes me think it would pleaseher. Being here, with me, would make her happy, I think. Holding her in the sunshine as she talks about what she loves most—her daughter—is special.
“You would love it here too, honey,” I whisper against her temple, pressing a kiss there.
Pulling back, I frame her beautiful face in my rough hands, letting her see what I mean. Without words, I am asking her to think about it. To consider giving life here a chance. It has been just a day, less than that, but she is happier than when she got here. I can make her happier. I can make it a place she loves, I am sure of it.
“I think I would,” she replies, eyes shining in the warm light.
Nodding, I draw her closer, bending to lift her up again. Jillian laughs as I pull at the flannel I just wrapped her in. Her soft body presses against mine as my mouth meets her. Going back to the water, I walk in with her wound around me. After we play in the water for a while, we saddle up for a ride.
With her nestled against me, my arms tight around her, we ride for hours. I show her all my favorite places, making sure to kiss her good and deep at each one. I want her to remember them this way, with me. And I want to remember her being here with me if I can’t convince her to stay.
“You said you never did rodeo. But you do rope tricks?”
“Just for fun. With the steer trainer or bales of hay. Couldn’t bring myself to rope any of kids or horses. Wouldn’t want to hurt them, would I?”
“No, honey, I don’t think you would want to hurt anything.”
Smiling, I bend down to kiss her, sighing as the kiss deepens. There is something about riding together, bodies bouncing together, the warm breeze, it does something to us. If we ride, we wind up tangled up in hungry kisses with hungrier touches. Not sure riding a horse will ever be the same for me.
“Gosh it is beautiful here. If you weren’t at the ranch, where would you be, Jacob?”
Thinking about her answer for a moment, I smile. “At another ranch. My own if I could manage it. One where I take care of wounded horses. Ones that were forgotten the same way I was.”
“I could never forget you,” she whispers suddenly, twisting to stare back at me.
“Oh, honey, I won’t ever forget you either. I would not want to.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier if we could?”
“Sure, I reckon it would be easier. If we could start tomorrow without what we’re feeling today. What we’ve been feeling since I threw you on the ground to climb on top of you,” I tease with a smirk. Twisting completely, she settles herself astride me, lacing her arms across my shoulders.
“Maybe I just fell at your feet, cowboy,” Jillian teases, brushing her fingers through my hair that way that drives me crazy.
“I wish I were so lucky, cowgirl,” I shoot back with a grin.
“We should both be so lucky, Jacob,’” she whispers, sobering as she gazes up at me.
Taking a deep breath, I nod. Bending my head, I meet her halfway for another one of those deep, heart twisting kisses that I never want to end. I never want any of this to end but we’re on borrowed time. We both know that. We might’ve spent last night pretending otherwise but it’s no use.
Our time together is on a clock—one ticking to its end.
Chapter Eight
