Page 10 of Wild Heart
“Eight seconds of a bronco rush versus 24/7 maintenance. Make yourself comfortable.” He sidles to the door, a thumb hooking his belt buckle. “And, Summer, don’t bother telling Sawyer you slept in my bed, or anyone else for that matter.”
8
I’ve always hadto look down at females, given us Taylor men are taller than most. But now that I think about it, gazing down at this dainty beauty seems a whole lot different. Hell, I have no idea what it is about her that has me so edgy. It’s like I want to wrap her up in my arms and hold that fine body of hers until she falls asleep.
And I sure as hell know what that would lead to. I can see it all unfold in her pretty cornflower blue eyes. Everything about her is sensual and inviting, right down to how she responded when I carried her to my room. There was no fight or indignant grunt, just a sigh that indicated she was... content.
All women feel good in a man’s arms, right? That’s why Kelsey hung around for more than one night. The feel of soft warm, inviting female triggered months of soul-destroying bullshit.
Walking away from Summer right now, is the best thing to do. I hear my bedroom door click shut when I round the end of the hallway. If she takes the time to rest up after the long flight, eat some decent, wholesome food, then she’ll be ready to tackle the house cleaning tomorrow. I shake my head and chuckle - who the fuck talks like that?‘I don’t eat gluten.’ She’ll damn well eat what I make her and be grateful for it.
I beat a few eggs and toss them into the pan, then shift beer cans around in the fridge to find something a fancy ass girl from the other side of the globe would eat. There’re slices of cold cuts, half a block of cheese and, of course, beer.
Along with a large spoon full of the sunny scrambled mess on a plate, I toss on a few slices of tomato and leave it at that. It’s not fancy, but it’s all I have time for - except for one other thing that catches my eye.
Why the heck I snip a stem and set a pretty bluebonnet on the tray, baffles me. There’s nothing about me that’s romantic. What you see is what you get. I’m a rancher, with rancher hands and a rancher lifestyle.
I carry the tray to my room and clear my throat before calling to her. “Summer, okay if I come in?” Nothing. Just a few clatters and bangs from outside. “I’m coming in.”
Carefully nudging down the handle with my elbow, I push the door open and nearly drop the tray at my feet. I see jeans where she’d stepped out of them, a top strewn away from where she tossed it, and then I see her, lying on my bed, on top of my sheets, wearing my tee.Damn.Bare milky legs curl up to her chest, and her pretty little head rests on my pillow. I’m not sure why I continue to stare at her or why I swallow hard when she murmurs gently in her sleep, but I do. I brand the innocent image of her snoozing right to my memory.
I snap myself out of whatever mood she’s just thrown me into, set the tray on the nightstand and hang back. Her jaw is relaxed, her lashes fluttering as she dreams, and her breathing is slow and shallow. I reach across her shoulder, lift a corner of the blanket and draw it over the sleeping beauty. She really is stunning, and quite possibly the prettiest woman I’ve ever known. That thought doesn’t escape me without playing out - I’d really like to know her, every sweet sexy inch of her.
“Thanks,” she barely whispers, and I’m not even convinced that’s what she said because the murmur drifts away as quickly as her lips part and close.
This was not how I planned my morning. I’m not looking for trouble, nor am I ready for more nagging from a woman. I back up, dilly dallying without commitment to exit the room right away. A growl releases under my breath as I walk to the door and leave before my sanity unravels. My head thumps with each fast step, until I reach the sunshine and suck fresh air in deeply. Even though it’s warm outside, I miss the heat of her presence. The sun covers my arms as I stomp to the barn to collect my tools, yet it doesn’t feel half as good as her soft little body did in my arms. I curse myself for being a damn fool when I look up to the sky and decide the shade of blue looping her pupils is better, because it’s flawless.
I load up the truck, tossing in tools and random other stuff that might be useful. My mind has gone to shit. In less than sixty seconds, I’ve become obsessed with her. I keep glancing over at the house, not once but four pointless times. I’m not quite sure how this happened - how a beautiful Irish girl ended up in my bed, without me in it. Nonetheless, she’s lying under my blanket, all cozy and practically naked, in my shirt, while I’m out here wondering if I should make a move on her later.No, that’s a bad idea.I argue with myself, muttering like a deranged idiot.
The truck door slams shut behind me, I grab the steering wheel and growl. She’s stuck in my mind. Focus - yeah, that’s what I need to do right now. There’s too much to do on the ranch.
The sole of my boot hits the accelerator hard, and the truck jerks forward until the large tires crunch over gravel. My favorite song drifts out of the speakers, so I turn up the volume and crank down the window. A strange sensation lifts my chest, deepening my breathing as guitar chords strum through the space. Thrills inject my veins. Adrenalin, or a newfound exhilaration, gives the anticipation of the mundane task of fencing a jolt. I know this song is lively, but it’s never made me feel so pumped before. For some reason, my mood is elevated, and it’s not because of the bouncy beat.
Earthy smells of sweet grass and grazing cattle remind me of childhood, when Beau and I would ride out on horseback to herd livestock. My brother is the risk taker, the guy who’ll ride the most skittish horse and think it’s a fun challenge. I’m more practical, mulling over consequences and options. I guess that’s why I’m the ideal candidate for running the ranch, even though Beau is older.
The lyrics drive my thoughts back to Summer, and I find myself looking forward to seeing her gorgeous face this afternoon, even if I’m only taking her home.
Five tunes later, Dad lifts his head to greet me when he hears the truck tearing up the track. Trees shade the line of fencing that border our pastures, running alongside a babbling brook on the opposite side. His chestnut horse, Flash, is tied near a water trough.
“Hayden.” Dad nods when I exit the vehicle. “Do you think the girl will work out?”
“Sure.” I don’t sound convincing. My attention falls to the useless random wrench and chisel I threw in my truck bed before I left the house. “She’s suffering from jet lag. I’m giving her a chance to sleep it off today, or she’ll be no good to anyone.” I round the back of the truck and toss a bag of long nails at his boots.
“Hayden, I know that look on your face.” Hank stretches out his back then hunkers down to collect the bag. “You know that young thing is only here for a few weeks, right?”
“Sure thing.” I’m ignoring his searching gaze, hiding my own under the brim of my hat.
“Then she’ll be flying all the way back to her life in Northern Ireland,” he continues.
“I know that - and the house will be spotless.” The stiff shrug is for my own benefit, reminding me of the facts and pretending they don't matter. “She’s only sleeping. It’s not as if I screwed her against the wall.” I chuckle with an odd rasp.
“Son. Only a fool would go after a woman who ain’t staying. And I didn’t raise a fool.” A balmy breeze carries a waft of hay. I stare at a long stretch of flat pasture where tiny blue flowers sprout along the fence line beyond the perimeter, their vivid shade of blue is so calming. Jeez, I’ve never been so mindful of trees and flowers. Hands clap and I find his wry smile. “Hayden?”
“Dad, we came out here to get the fencing fixed, not gossip like a bunch of women.” I barely keep my eyes from rolling. “Come on, old man, I thought you rode ahead to get started.” I snap out of my mind funk and unload a fresh plank of red cedar. “The fence doesn’t look as bad as I first thought. We might get finished up before lunch.”
“Don’t, Hayden.” Hanks tone is a warning.
The wood drops to the earth with a thud. My thumbs hook the opening to my jean pockets, my stance widens, and I hold his gaze. “What?” My sigh doesn’t go unnoticed.
