Page 30 of Ride Me Cowboy (Coyote Creek Ranch #1)

The front door bangs and my poor nerves—which have been stretched almost to breaking point—pull harder, because it must be Cole.

I don’t realize just exactly how desperate I am to see him again until Caleb walks into the lounge room, grinning and calling out to Nash, greeting the others.

The volume levels go way, way up, and I take the chance to excuse myself, back to the office, which, by total coincidence, has a handy view of the drive, to keep an eye out for approaching cars…

Cole

Without a doubt, this morning with Beth was one of the best ways to start a day I’ve ever known, but the last few hours have totally wiped out whatever warm and fuzzy feelings I had zipping through me afterwards.

I stop the car at the bottom of the drive, needing a moment to compose myself.

Even before dad died, I never much liked going to the bank, but now, knowing how hopeless things are, it feels like just about the worst way to spend time.

I grip the steering wheel tight, looking to the left, surveying the property boundaries that have almost stayed the same since my great, great grandparents came out here and set up ranching.

There’s a small slip of land dad sold to the Callahans, but beyond that, this place is ours.

For a long time, being the Donovan’s of Coyote Creek Ranch has defined us, our family, and the thought of having to piece it up even more, selling parts of it off, losing the creek, losing the fields our cows need to feed.

I hate the thought of it. But with only six months left to turn things around, I have to start thinking of ways to make cuts. I need solutions.

I think about talking to my brothers and Caleb.

Telling them the problem, seeing if we can’t put our heads together and come up with a solution.

But every time I get close to opening my mouth, I see my dad, his face, his eyes—so kind and gentle—and know that I can’t do it to him.

This place was his pride and joy. That same pride was built by his success, and how his kids perceived him.

It’d cut him up for the others to know about this.

It’s his secret, and he’d want me to keep it that way.

He gambled everything, and he lost, but he did it to help someone. He trusted someone he shouldn’t have. That damn big heart of his.

I start up the drive once more, but even the thought of seeing Beth leaves a rock in my gut. It’s not that I don’t want to see her, it’s that I don’t want her seeing me. Asking me questions.

She never knew my dad, and if she pushes this, I can’t say for sure that I won’t tell her.

At the same time, it’s the last thing I feel like talking about.

I just want to be alone a bit, to brainstorm and process.

To ride out and cover every square inch of this ranch until a solution bangs me on the head.

Which is a shame, because I’d completely forgotten about Beau’s barbecue, and the fact Nash is coming out for it.

But as I sweep toward the house, his truck is right there, with that ‘Will Stop For Ribs’ bumper sticker plastered right across the back, beside another one that reads ‘My Other Car is Electric’.

Well, shit.

So much for getting some time alone.

I swing out of the pickup, my gaze travelling along the house, to the office, where I catch a glimpse of a familiar blonde head, and all thoughts of being alone evaporate like a dam in a drought.

I was wrong. I want to see her. I just don’t want to talk about this, but time with Beth is probably exactly what I need to get our financial mess the hell out of my mind. Which solves absolutely nothing, but at least it’ll feel good.

My eyes hang on the window a beat longer, so I see the moment she glances up, her eyes sweeping across the landscape until they land on me and stick.

Memories of this morning swirl inside me, pushing away the meeting I’ve just had, the stress I’m carrying, making me feel a thousand and one things that I really, seriously like.

“What the hell you standin’ out here for?” Beau asks loudly, as he comes down the steps and over to me, banging me on the shoulder, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

I jerk my eyes to him. “What’s wrong? You missin’ me?”

He laughs. “Yeah, I’ve been crying into my pillow. Nash’s here.”

“So, I gather.” I jerk my head toward the house. “Smells good.”

“Nash?”

I punch him on the arm. “Yeah, right.”

He starts to walk around the side of the house, to the courtyard.

Years ago, Beau built this barbecue out of wire and stone.

It’s his own design and works both as a grill or a smoker, depending on what he’s making.

The only problem is how close it is to the house, because the smell can drive you out of your mind some days.

Another car comes up the drive, and I recognize the Callahan’s pick up, with its tomato red paint. Hank and Ash jump out.

Despite the fact Ash and Beau have had a friends-with-benefits arrangement for at least a year, she barely looks at him as she comes over. “Y’all, that smells so good,” she says, grinning at me before winking briefly at Beau, not stopping.

“Your folks coming over?”

“Nah, but that don’t mean they wouldn’t love some leftovers,” Hank grins, shaking first my hand, then Beau’s.

I look back toward my office window; Beth is still there, head bent now, and as I look, I mentally will her to glance my way. But she doesn’t.

“You comin’?” Beau asks, and I realize he and Hank are halfway to the courtyard.

“Yeah,” I call. “I’ve just gotta check something in the office.”

“Right-o. Bring a couple of cold ones back with you,” Beau says, turning and locking into conversation with Hank.

I watch their retreating backs for about three seconds flat then stride across the gravel toward the office window.

I tap on it, and Beth glances up, her cheeks showing the sweetest flush of pink when her eyes land on mine.

She lifts her hand in a small, tentative greeting.

I nod to the side of the house. Not the courtyard side, where the Callahans and Donovans will be setting up for a long night. No. I want my girl somewhere private. Somewhere away from the rest of them.

She stands up, looks at me quizzically. I point again and this time, she nods, begins to walk to the office door. I stay just long enough to enjoy a nice glimpse of her neat ass and then break into a jog, so I’m there waiting for her when she steps out into the late afternoon sunshine.

“Well, howdy, Cowboy,” she says, a little breathlessly, and I drag her into my arms and kiss her, like I haven’t been able to stop thinking of anything else all day.

Like I exist purely for this reason alone.

I kiss her until she’s moaning and her body’s pressing against mine, and her hands are roaming my chest, my back, curving around my ass, as though the only thing she can think of is how to be with me.

But I don’t stop, because kissing her is not only addictive, it drives every worry from my mind.

Or maybe it doesn’t, because I’m still stressed as hell about the property, the bank, the money we owe.

But when I can kiss Beth like this, and turn her into a puddle of need in about three seconds flat, I feel like I’m the most powerful man on earth.

Like there ain’t nothing that matters quite so much as this.

“Cole,” she moans into my mouth, before ripping free and staring at me, panting, lips parted and swollen. “God, Cole, I want…”

I know. I want it, too.

“What do you want, darlin?” I ask, pulling her closer to me at the same time I push her back against the house and lift her, wrapping her legs around my waist so my hard cock is right there, at her sex, showing her just how much I want her too.

She groans and sinks lower, like she’s trying to get me inside even though we’re both still fully dressed. I buck my hips a little, and she bites into that kiss-swollen lip, closes her eyes and lets out a shuddering laugh.

“I think we need to take this someplace else.”

“Tell me what you want,” I say, knowing there’s no way in hell we can be together right now, but that we shouldn’t stop having our fun when we can.

“I want…I want…damn it, Cole, you know what I want.”

“What’s the matter, City Girl? Too shy to spell it out for me?”

Her eyes roam my face.

“I want to hear you say it,” I growl. “Tell me you want me to fuck you. Tell me you want me hard inside you, filling you up, making you mine. Tell me you want me to grab your hips and drag you down on my length, to bury myself inside you, deeper, harder, more mine than you’ve ever been anyone’s.”

Her eyes widen and her whole face goes pink. “Yes,” she says quickly. “Yes, Cole, that’s exactly what I want.”

“Tell me you want me to bend you over and take you from behind, so I can see your beautiful ass as I make love to you, feel your breasts, touch your clit. Tell me you want to watch us in a mirror, see your face as you come for me, over and over, your pussy so wet because of me. All because of me.”

She shudders, and drives her hips forward, pushing down harder on my cock. “Please, fuck me,” she begs. “I want this. I want you. I’ve been wanting you all day.”

Something inside me soars high in my chest. Her easy admission of that is better than I expected. “You’re gonna have to want me a little longer, sweetheart,” I mutter. “I reckon our absence will be conspicuous.”

“Believe me, it won’t be. I don’t think this is going to take us long.”

I laugh then. “Shows what you know.” I lean closer and draw her lower lip between my teeth, before sliding my tongue in her mouth and tasting every bit of her. She trembles in my arms. “When you and I do this, we’re doing it nice and slow. Not rushing. I mean really, really doing it.”

“Cole,” she draws out the vowel of my name, so I know how close she is.

“I know.” I move my hand between her legs, brushing the seam of her pants until she starts to moan faster.

I stroke her there, watching as her eyes roll back in her head and her whole body shakes with the strength of what she’s feeling.

Watching her like I’ve never seen anything more beautiful and perfect than this girl, Beth Tasker, falling apart in my arms. Mine to pleasure, to drive wilder than a storm in July. All mine—at least, for now.