Page 11 of Roughing It with the Rancher (Love Along Route 14 #11)

Chapter Ten

REESE

“ W elcome to our humble abode, Angel,” I say as I hobble through the front door, still trying to figure out what the hell’s wrong with my knee. It’s fine walking on level ground, but stairs piss it the hell off.

We stand in the large Victorian entryway with its ancient furniture and decor, an homage to the early ranching successes of my great-grandfather.

If Esmeralda’s right, that all changed about the time the El Cortez treasure found its way here.

I wonder if my ancestor even knew about it?

Or if Tyler Eldon Hayes stumbled across the stash, reburied it, and created the map to return at a later date?

All I know is I need to take a look at the original.

“I should grab your luggage so we can take a closer look at the map,” I suggest.

“No way,” Esmeralda scolds. “I need to assess your injuries first. See if you need real medical treatment.”

“I’m fine, Treasure. But my head is swimming with a thousand questions about Tyler Eldon Hayes and the map. I need to see it.”

Her face hardens, and she presses her lips firmly together. “No, Reese. I am not putting the treasure before your health. Do you have a first-aid kit somewhere around here?”

“I’m telling you I’m fine, Esmeralda. Let me look at that map.”

Her bottom lip trembles, and her eyes water. “I understand the pull of gold. Really, I do. But please don’t be like my grandpa, becoming totally obsessed with it. It’s all that man can think about, even in the nursing home.” She frowns.

“Oh, Esmeralda,” I say, bringing my big, rough hand up to palm her delicate cheek. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. It’s just this treasure-hunting stuff has a dangerous magnetism to it.”

“We had an abandoned barn fall on top of us less than fifteen minutes ago, and all you’re thinking about is gold, gold, gold. You need to get your priorities straight, and let me look at your back.”

“You’re right. I won’t let it happen again.” To prove I mean what I say, I pull my T-shirt over my head, groaning at the pain caused by straining my back muscles. I turn around, asking, “Well, what’s the verdict?”

“You have some lacerations and red spots where I imagine you’ll have nasty bruising tomorrow. It looks like you took a beam to the back to save me.” Her voice trembles.

“Felt like it, too,” I say, turning and pulling her into my arms again.

“What is it about you that makes me want you so much, even though I barely know you?” I whisper as she settles into my arms, her face beaming.

My lips drop to hers, my heart racing as I devour her mouth, completely addicted to the warm, deliciousness of her cherry-stained lips.

“But your lip. You have a cut on it,” she says between kisses as my tongue delves into her, rhythmically claiming her to the beat of my heart. “I don’t want to hurt it worse.”

“The only thing that could hurt me right now is not tasting you,” I confess, thrilled at how she whimpers at my words, her tiny hands hanging onto my neck.

“But your back,” she pants as my lips descend to her neck, feathering lightly over her décolletage. “I need to wash your injuries and?—”

Her lips find mine, claiming me in return.

Her juicy pink tongue dives into my mouth slowly and sensually, mating with mine until the last thing on my mind is falling barns, injured backs, or treasure maps.

My hands grip her hips, grinding her against my firm arousal as tiny cries escape her lips, letting me know she likes what she feels.

Ding dong .

The doorbell.

“For God’s sake, are you kidding me?” I exclaim, reluctantly looking toward the door. I have half a mind to ignore it. Not that I get many visitors, but fuck them and fuck their lousy timing.

Ding dong .

“Dammit,” I say thickly, still so caught up in the mesmerizing flavor and feel of Esmeralda that I can’t think straight.

“Maybe you should get that?” Her warm breath teases my cheek as she speaks. I can’t help myself, finding her mouth and ravishing her again.

Ding dong .

Resigned to the damn interruption, I pull back, frowning as I take in my adorable wife’s flushed cheeks. “Coming!” I scream.

I struggle back into my shirt, heading for the door.

“Maybe it’s the paramedics after all,” Esmeralda says behind me.

Maybe.

I adjust myself as discreetly as possible, not ready to open the door with a raging hard-on. On the other side, I stare at Nick. Motherfucker!

Crossing my arms over my chest, I grumble, “Y’all need to get the hell out of here. This is private property, and I’m well within my legal rights to shoot you.”

Nick laughs. “If it ain’t the cowboy with the biggest balls West of the Mississippi.

How are you, man?” He wears thick tortoiseshell glasses with wavy brown locks that hang to his shoulders and a red, white, and blue Hawaiian shirt that screams tourist. From his thin khaki shorts to his flip-flops, the man’s not dressed for the late-night outing he’s about to ask permission for. But who am I to lecture him?

“Are you okay, Reese? You’ve got a cut on your forehead, and you look like shit.”

“It’s a damn long story.”

He eyes me hesitantly. “Dude, we were heading up the road to our spot when we crested the corner, and your old barn came into view. It collapsed in front of our eyes. What’s going on?”

I shrug. “Time finally caught up with it. Unfortunately, I was inside when it happened.”

“Oh, man. Seriously? How in the hell did you manage to get out?”

“I had to for my wife,” I say matter-of-factly, feeling happier about that nickname for Esmeralda every time I use it. Repeating the sentiment of her earlier observations, I add, “I can’t leave her a widow on our wedding day.”

“Wife? Wedding day? No way, man!” He peers around me, his eyes finding Esmeralda.

I should invite him and his friends inside, offer them beers and food.

But to hell with that. Esmeralda and I were in the middle of something too good to interrupt.

And it’s not like he and the gang are here solely to socialize.

The blonde beauty glides up next to me, and I wrap my arm around her. “Nick, this is my wife, Esmeralda. Angel, this is Nick.”

She offers her hand to shake, and I feel inordinately jealous, even though I know I have nothing to worry about.

“Nick,” she says politely. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

We stand in silence for a long moment as a cooling breeze finally breaks the heat of the afternoon.

“Well, just wanted to drop by and make sure everything’s okay.

And get the official word that you’re cool with what we’re up to tonight?

” He points over his shoulder towards the caravan of cars behind him, and I wave.

The occupants of the vehicles wave back, a strange assortment of folks, many wearing alien-related shirts and gear, including some antennae hair bands. Esmeralda shields her eyes, studying them curiously.

“Yeah, of course. Do your thing.”

“Thanks, Reese and Mrs. Reese. Do something about your forehead, dude, before you bleed out.”

“Roger that. Good luck on the hunt.”

When the front door closes, Esmeralda searches my face quizzically. “What are they hunting for?”

“Little green men.”

She puts her hand on her hip. “Are you back to making fun of me again? No, seriously.”

“Seriously,” I say, letting her go and removing my shirt with another groan. “Nevada’s famous for extraterrestrial activity. Hell, even I’ve seen some wild, inexplicable shit in the night sky. Alright, nurse, ready to have at it?”

“Where was that first-aid kit again?”

“In the bathroom medicine cabinet down the hallway. You want me to show you?”

She shakes her head, concern still flooding her face. “No, have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

I sigh contentedly moments later as my good luck charm works her magic on my back.

Her delicate fingertips brush over my flesh, igniting sparks of desperate need.

She takes her time, gently working, minimizing the pain with her careful movements while ensuring clean wounds.

Yearning floods me, dangerous and primal.

My balls tingle at the tender caresses, my cock painfully pressed against the zipper of my jeans.

I hunger for Esmeralda. My mind devolving to one primal want.

“Your forehead now,” she says, coming to sit next to me on the bench seat of the rustic dining room table, drawing as close as she can.

Our legs are in the way. I can tell it frustrates her as she leans into me, her soft breath warming my face.

Esmeralda’s lilac fragrance wraps around me as her fingers sensually dance over my flesh, and I come unwound from the inside out.

Her lips are mere inches from mine. The air thick and heavy between us, crackling with electricity and so much fucking longing.

“There,” she says, thick-voiced as she stares into my face. “I won’t put a bandage on your forehead, but be careful with it.”

I nod, eyes absorbing her thirstily. Her nostrils flare, and her eyes darken a whole shade, going from turquoise to teal. She licks her full, lush bottom lip, and I can’t take anymore. Grabbing her around the waist, I pull her into my lap, straddling me.

“Oh,” she says, a tiny puff of air escaping her lips as she shuffles forward in my lap, pressing her sex against my painful, throbbing arousal.

“How real do you want this marriage to be, Angel?” My heart pounds against my chest the way my dick throbs against the moist heat between her legs. My hands find her skirt, shimmying it over her ample hips some more, allowing her legs to part more, and her pussy to hug my need.

“What do you mean?” She stammers, her cheeks aglow.

“You know exactly what I mean, Esmeralda.”

“But we barely know each other.”

“I’m trying to change that,” I retort, gripping and massaging her hips, grinding her against me hard.

“And we live halfway across the country from each other,” she stammers, her breath catching in her throat as I feather her neck in kisses, allowing the tip of my tongue to hungrily drag across her dusty, sweaty skin.

“That’s easy enough to fix, especially since we’re now each other’s wealth.”

Her breath catches in her throat as my hands go to her breasts, teasing her pebbled nipples through the fabric of her lacy blouse and bra. “But do we even share the same interests or wants for the future?” she whispers, her voice melting as my thumbs tease her tits.

“We both want kids and each other. That’s obvious as fuck.

We both like steak and eggs for breakfast, coffee and cream, and wild adventures.

We want to find your treasure and figure out how to make this damn ranch pay for itself.

And we both want to lift whatever curse that’s got cattle herds dying, droughts persisting, and old barns crashing down on our heads. Isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t know.”

“And,” I add, fingering her wedding band as I shower her hand and fingers in slow, sensual swipes of my lips and tongue. “I belong to you the way you belong to me. Let’s make it official.” I inch my head back, eyeing her face.

She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Her eyes are locked on my lips.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” My throat feels tight, my voice in imminent danger of cracking.

The backs of my eyes sting, overcome by this precious treasure.

She’s more than I’ve ever wanted, more than I deserve.

But it doesn’t temper my fierce need to claim her—rise to the occasion, become a better man, and do whatever it takes to keep her.

“Let me please you,” I beg. “Show you just how goddamned compatible we are. Please.”