Rough Rider (Hot Cowboy Nights, #2)(24)

He’d flung the covers aside and lay sprawled on his back, arms outstretched, taking up most of the space on the mattress—not that she minded. Janice sidled up snugly against him, her shoulder set in the hollow of his shoulder, her head resting on his chest where she lay hypnotized by the slow and steady drumbeat of his heart. She’d never felt so warm, comfortable, and safe as she did with Dirk. He was everything she’d wanted—everything she’d dreamed of. He’d been patient and tender, making her first time a memory she’d cling to forever, and now she wondered if any other man would ever measure up.

It wasn’t just a physical attraction, but what she’d seen on the inside too. Dirk was strong, self-assured, and confident in his own skin—a man who took life by the horns. He was also honest and forthright and caring to those he loved. She couldn’t fathom how Rachel could have been so mistaken to think she could manipulate him. He wasn’t the type to put up with those kinds of games. Maybe she’d succeeded for a while…and maybe he’d go back to her…for a while…but she’d never be able to keep him—not like that.

Yeah right, Janice, you’re quite an expert on men.

Nevertheless, her instincts had been right. Dirk had balked. She still marveled at the events that had brought him dripping wet to her door, but like the stroke of midnight for Cinderella, the rising sun meant the end of the magic—and the hours were ticking away.

This whole night seemed so unreal to her now. She’d given him her virginity without a second thought. Although she didn’t have a clue what the morning would bring, she couldn’t regret any of it. No, she wouldn’t take it back for anything. Tomorrow he might belong to Rachel again, but she refused to dwell on that. For now he was all hers.





Chapter 5


Dirk started awake to a blast of music. Bolting upright, he smacked his head on the thinly insulated trailer ceiling and then shut his eyes, cursing a blue streak. His head already felt like it was going to explode, and his body ached like he’d suffered the rack.

The music continued… “Cowboy take me away, fly this girl as high as you can, into the wild blue. Set me free, oh I pray, closer to heaven above and closer to you.”

“Cowboy Take Me Away”? The Dixie Chicks? He hated that song. Clutching his throbbing skull, he consigned the Dixie Chicks to a very special place in hell.

Once the pain subsided to a dull throb, he slowly cracked his lids open and looked around, disoriented and confused. Where the hell was he?

The throbbing increased again with the brief flashes he recalled of the night before.

The bull ride gone south. The party. Rachel’s teary eyes. Grady singing karaoke. Getting kicked out. The storm. Janice.

Shit! What the hell had he done? Had he and Janice really…as if on cue, she burst out of the bathroom to shut off her alarm. Her gaze met his and she froze, her teeth sinking deep into her lower lip.

The towel wrapped around her did little to cover all that creamy white flesh. She looked like a French pastry—good enough to eat. His dick twitched at the sight. Oh yeah. Last night was very real.

“Mornin’, Red—” His gaze never left hers as he slid down from the gooseneck and grabbed his jeans and shirt. “I gotta get you some different CDs.”

“I got some Chris LeDoux if you prefer,” she said.

“About last night—” Their voices collided in a disharmonious duet.

He inclined his head. “Ladies first.”

“I’m surprised you’re here,” she ventured shyly.

“Why?”

“I dunno. Just thought you’d probably be gone.”

That supposition definitely didn’t set right with him. “Is that what you wanted?”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I just thought—”

He scowled. “That I’d slink off without even buying you breakfast?”

“You don’t need to feel obligated to me.”

His mouth compressed. “Whadaya mean, Red?”

“I just want you to know I don’t expect anything,” she said. “Sometimes things just happen. I’m not naive about that. I know last night doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure it does. It means I was right about men and women being friends.”

“Maybe you were,” she confessed. “But we can at least try, can’t we? Please, Dirk. I don’t want things to be awkward between us now.”

“Women.” He pulled his shirt on with a mumbled curse.

She frowned at him. “What about women?”

“You think too damned much!” He stomped into one boot and then the other. “You have to overanalyze every little thing.”

“It wasn’t a little thing! It was a very big thing—well, for me anyway,” she murmured.

He chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment, sweetheart.”

Her head snapped up, her brown eyes narrowing as if she wanted to slug him. “That’s not how I meant it.”

He shrugged. “If the boot fits…”

She grabbed one of hers and threw it at him. Dirk barely dodged the manure-covered missile. “Hold on there, Red.” He raised his hands, laughing in surrender. “Can we call a truce? I’m awful hungry.”