Page 22 of Country Winds (King Creek Cowboys #9)

E llie and Tucker walked from the blazing late June Arizona heat into the welcome coolness of the Phoenix Art Museum. Sweat droplets rolled down Ellie’s spine beneath the cool white cotton top.

She pushed her sunglasses onto her head. “Have you ever been here?”

Tucker adjusted his Diamondbacks ball cap. “Nope. This is a first for me.”

“Well, I told you I have a surprise for you.” She smiled at him and pointed to a banner announcing, “Retrospective of Frederic Remington,” a traveling art exhibition. “Ta da.”

Tucker paused, hooked his thumbs in his jeans, then smiled at her. “I like the surprise. I’ve never seen Remington’s works in person.”

Ellie picked up a flyer for the cowboy artist’s exhibit at the information desk, and they walked through displays of other artworks to get to his. She soaked up all the art they passed as they made their way through the museum.

She looked up at Tucker. “I adore museums.”

“With your background in art, I’m not surprised.” He gave a nod. “I’m not as cultured.”

She laughed. “I’m going to turn you into an art aficionado.”

He looked amused. “I’m none too sure of that.”

“Did you know today is exactly four months from the day that we met?” She cocked her head. “Can you believe it?”

He shook his head. “Seems longer.”

“In some ways, it does.” She smiled up at him. “I do feel as if I’ve known you for years.”

Things had been so crazy that Ellie felt like they hadn’t had as much time together as she would have liked. The weeks since the TV show had flown by in a whirlwind, making her breathless just thinking about it.

“I’m glad things are slowing down and I’m not doing as many interviews.” She blew out her breath. “And even though it’s hard to let go, I’m relieved that my social media business will soon be out of my hands and into Reese Grantham’s very capable hands.”

“She’s a sharp gal.” Tucker nodded. “I was impressed when I had the chance to meet her.”

Ellie’s sunglasses slipped from her head and fell to her nose.

She removed the glasses, slid the pair into a case from her purse then put it away.

“It’s fortunate for both of us—she was looking for a new opportunity and another way to capitalize on her marketing skills, and she’s starting her new career with an already successful business and clientele. ”

Reese had dived in headfirst, assimilating all the knowledge she could get from Ellie. They would finalize the deal later this week, Reese’s last day of work, after giving two weeks’ notice to the Scottsdale marketing firm she worked for.

“How do you think she’ll do with your YouTube channel?” Tucker raised his ball cap and pushed his fingers through his hair. “You were concerned about your followers.”

“I think she’ll be perfect.” Ellie looked down at the map and pointed to the left. “The exhibit is through that door.” They headed in that direction. “Now that I’ve sold it to Reese, I’ll be helping her make the transition, and I’ll join her the first couple of times before she takes full control.”

Ellie spread her arms wide. “Then I’ll be freeeee.” She laughed and lowered her arms. “I had no idea how good it would feel to let my social media business go.”

“You’ve been burning the candle at both ends.” Tucker nodded. “You can take a deep breath.”

She smiled. “Now I can focus on my other career and be open to new voicework opportunities.”

He glanced at her. “Still planning on fitting me into your schedule?”

She playfully batted at his arm. “Silly. Of course—you’re at the top of the list.”

They entered the room showcasing some of Remington’s finest artworks. The room’s dimness gave the exhibit an intimate feel, and art lighting illuminated each of his works on display. He had been not only an artist but also a journalist and writer.

They paused at each of his cowboy and Native American pen-and-ink illustrations and his western creations in watercolors and oils. Tucker studied each artwork intently, as if committing it to memory. He appeared to be totally absorbed in the experience.

They learned more about the man throughout the exhibit. He’d led a fascinating life during the time when the West was the Wild West.

“I wonder if he ever went to Tombstone.” Ellie studied a painting of a cattle drive. “He did travel throughout the West, including through Arizona.”

“He might have.” Tucker sounded distracted as he studied a watercolor of a Native American.

“He was only forty-eight when he died.” Ellie looked up at Tucker and spoke quietly as they continued through the exhibit. “To think he accomplished so much during such a short time. He is considered by many to be the greatest American artist ever.”

Tucker nodded. “I’d have to say I agree with that wholeheartedly.”

They paused in front of one of Remington’s oil paintings. “The horse and rider look like they could come to life.” Tucker’s gaze roamed the piece. “I can feel the horse as if I’m riding him.”

Ellie smiled, her chest warm. She was happy he was enjoying the exhibit as much as she was—probably more since he was a cowboy and a horse rancher.

Tucker shook his head. “I’m not making sense. It isn’t easy to put into words how alive his work is. It’s not static, it’s motion.”

“I understand what you’re saying, and you’re making perfect sense.” Ellie leaned her head against his arm. “I feel the same way.”

They came to a cast of Remington’s first, and one of his most famous bronze sculptures, “The Bronco Buster.”

“Damn.” Tucker shook his head. “The bronc looks like he’s going to throw that rider now. I can see it. Feel it.”

Ellie could see it, too. Remington’s art had so much motion that one could feel like the horses, cattle, cowboys, and Native Americans would leap off the canvas.

At the end of the exhibit, they were both quiet. Ellie waited for Tucker, who seemed absorbed in his thoughts of Remington’s work.

He smiled at her and took her hand. “Thank you for the surprise.”

“You’re welcome.” She tipped her head, reached up on her toes, and kissed him. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”

His appreciation showed in his gaze. He squeezed her hand as they walked out of the exhibition room. He inclined his head to a display of abstract art. “Now that kind of art, I don’t get.” He shook his head. “There’s no style or heart to it like Remington’s works.”

She looked at the pieces he was talking about and had to agree, especially about one in particular. “I enjoy so many different types of art, but I don’t get what’s attractive about a toilet paper roll on top of a beach ball.”

Tucker chuckled. “I guess you could say it takes all kinds.” He smiled at her as they stopped in the lobby. “What would you like to do for dinner?”

“I’ll cook for us at my townhouse.” She rocked on her heels. “Anything in particular you’re hungry for?”

He shook his head. “I’ll eat anything you come up with.”

“Oooh, you might be sorry you said that.” She gave him a devious grin. “I’ll come up with something particularly weird.”

He snorted in amusement. “Bring it on.”

Tucker followed Ellie into her townhouse and closed the door.

Her home smelled of citrus and the fresh-cut flowers on her dining room table.

He liked her place—it suited her. Bright, cheering, welcoming, and comfortable.

He wondered what kind of changes she would want to make to his ranch house if they were to marry and he brought her to the ranch.

The air conditioning chased away the day's heat, drying the sweat on his skin. It was five in the evening, but still 116 degrees in the shade, and only getting hotter every day. Maybe they’d get lucky and have a decent monsoon season if it just kicked into gear.

Unfortunately, the Phoenix-metro area’s “heat bubble” usually caused rainstorms to go around instead of through the area.

Fortunately, Gold Canyon and King Creek were well outside the bubble, and their rainy season was a sight better than Phoenix’s—if it was a good monsoon season, anyway.

Hailee sauntered into the room, and Tucker picked her up. “Hello, pretty girl.”

“I’m going to rinse off and change before making dinner.” Ellie started up the stairs. “I’m sticky and sweaty.” She paused and smiled. “If you want to share a cool shower, feel free to join me.”

Tucker set Hailee down. He didn’t have to be asked twice. It wasn’t about sex, just enjoying each other’s company. Right?

During the shower, he shampooed Ellie’s hair and rubbed her soapy scrubber over her shoulders and back, down to her rounded bottom and long legs. When she turned around, he hardened to the point of pain at the sight of water running over her full breasts and taut nipples.

He forced himself to soap her front, starting with her shoulders and moving down slowly, enjoying looking at her and touching her beautiful body. He took great care with her breasts, and Ellie sucked in her breath as he rubbed her nipples.

He met her gaze and saw desire burning in her eyes. Her lips were parted, and he imagined her slipping his cock into her mouth.

His good intentions went straight out the window. He wrapped his arms around her and claimed her mouth with his. The water pounded down on his back as he kissed her slowly and moved his fingers to her nipples. Ellie couldn’t control herself when it came to her nipples—she went wild.

Their kiss became almost frantic. He grasped her ass and pulled her up against him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He pushed her up against the shower wall and pressed his erection hard against her soft flesh.

Soap slid from her body as he pinned her against the shower wall and played with her nipples.

He knew how crazy that made her. She loved it even more when he sucked them, but she enjoyed it just as much when he rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, tugged at them, and any other way he touched her.

She squirmed and cried out, the water raining down on her face. “Now, Tucker. Please take me now .”