Page 23 of Saddles and Snowstorms (Sagebrush Cowboys #4)

Rowan

I was thankful I’d thought to grab my backpack before I braved the storm out to Brooks’ farm.

He didn’t have internet for his cabin, but I doubted it would’ve been much use in the storm, anyway.

However, I was able to hotspot my phone so I could update the clinic’s website and the outgoing message to people calling in.

As much as I wanted to help everyone I could in Sagebrush, the simple fact remained that I wasn’t going anywhere.

The wind and snow had almost completely buried my truck in a drift.

In most places the snow was up to my mid-thigh.

In others though, it had drifted to shoulder level on Brooks’ farm.

And if his farm was any clue as to what lay out on the roads, I’d never make it back to town even if I could dislodge my truck in the first place.

We were snowed it, plain and simple. So, the people of Sagebrush and their animals would have to wait for now.

Despite all that, I was pretty happy where I was.

It turned out Brooks was pretty good company once he stopped acting like a grumpy asshole.

Since we were stuck together and he was laid up, he had no choice but to get along with me.

Then again, I had a feeling me riding his dick that morning had something to do with his good mood.

The surly, introverted man I’d met that first day was gone, replaced with a shy, sexually suppressed one that seemed relieved to finally have someone to talk to.

And the longer we spent in that cabin, trapped by the snow, the better we got to know one another.

With each new piece of information, I found myself liking Brooks more and more. Something I knew was dangerous.

My resolve to keep Brooks at an arm’s length was quickly crumbling.

Each time he flashed me a small smile or a wink from those big brown eyes of his, I felt myself fall a little further.

He had a habit of keeping close to me too, always wanting some small part of himself touching me.

It was adorable and intimate in ways I didn’t know I needed.

Not to mention, the man was quite the horndog and a master in bed for someone without much practice.

I felt myself drawn to him more and more as time went on.

We’d been trapped together for a little over twenty-four hours and already I knew I was in too deep.

After lunch, we sat together on the couch, my laptop open as I showed Brooks pictures of my family back home. His thigh pressed against mine, warm and solid, as he leaned in to see the screen.

“That your momma?” he asked, pointing to a silver-haired woman with my same smile.

“Yeah. She’s the one who got me interested in veterinary medicine. She ran a shelter when I was growing up.”

Brooks nodded, his expression thoughtful. “You got her eyes.”

His hand found mine, calloused fingers intertwining with mine like it was the most natural thing in the world. For a man who’d spent most of his life alone, he was surprisingly tactile. I wondered if he’d been touch-starved all these years, living out here with just his cattle for company.

“What about your folks?” I asked, then immediately regretted it when I felt him stiffen beside me.

“Both gone,” he said, his voice tight. “Pa first, then Ma not long after.”

I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, but didn’t pull away. “It was a long time ago.”

“Still hurts though, doesn’t it?” I said softly, running my thumb over his knuckles.

Brooks was quiet for a long moment, his eyes fixed on our joined hands. “Yeah,” he finally admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Reckon some wounds don’t ever heal up proper. ”

The wind howled outside, rattling the windows as if to emphasize his point. In the fireplace, a log shifted, sending up a shower of sparks.

“Had a family friend who helped raise me after,” Brooks continued, surprising me. “My Pa’s friend. Taught me everything I know about ranchin’. But he passed too, ‘bout twenty years back. I was barely eighteen at the time.”

I didn’t say anything, just leaned my head against his shoulder. Sometimes silence said more than words ever could.

“That why you keep to yourself out here?” I asked after a while.

Brooks tensed again, then let out a slow breath. “Reckon so. Figured if I didn’t let nobody get close, then I wouldn’t have to watch ‘em leave.”

His honesty struck me like a physical blow.

The raw vulnerability in his admission made my chest ache.

I found myself wanting to tell him that I wouldn’t leave, that I could stay, but that would be a lie.

Once the snow cleared, I’d need to go back to my clinic.

My life was waiting for me, and I had a feeling Brooks wasn’t looking to take in a stray.

Instead, I shifted my body, turning to face him. “Thank you for telling me that.”

His eyes met mine, vulnerable and uncertain. “Don’t know why I did. Don’t usually talk about such things.”

“Maybe being snowed in makes people honest,” I suggested, reaching up to touch his stubbled jaw. “Or maybe you just needed someone to tell.”

Brooks leaned into my touch, his eyes drifting closed. “Maybe I just needed you,” he murmured, so quietly I almost didn’t hear it.

The words hung between us, heavy with meaning neither of us was ready to fully acknowledge. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his, a soft, chaste kiss that quickly deepened as Brooks pulled me closer.

His hands were everywhere—in my hair, sliding under my shirt, gripping my hips. There was a desperation to his touch that hadn’t been there before, like he was trying to memorize the feel of me.

“Hold on there, cowboy,” I said, extracting myself from his grip. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“S-Sorry,” he said breathlessly. “I just… I don’t know.”

I reached out, grabbing his chin with my thumb and forefinger and forcing him to look at me. “I like it,” I said, holding his gaze. “In fact, I love that you’re so passionate. It’s just that it’s almost chore time. ”

Brooks’ face flushed. “Chore time,” he echoed, his voice rough. “Guess the animals don’t care much ‘bout snowstorms.”

I smiled, running my thumb along his jawline before pulling away. “Nature waits for no man, not even a handsome cowboy.”

He caught my hand as I stood, tugging me back for one more quick kiss. “You keep talkin’ like that, and those animals might have to wait a bit longer.”

“Tempting,” I admitted, “but I know how much your livestock means to you.”

I bundled up against the cold, Brooks insisting I wear one of his heavy coats that hung nearly to my knees. The wind had died down some, but the snow was still falling steadily, adding to the already impressive drifts that surrounded the cabin.

“You stay here and stay off that leg,” I told him as I headed toward the door. “I don’t want you making it worse before we can get you x-rayed down at the hospital.”

“If the pipes aren’t frozen, I’m gonna take a bath,” he replied. “Maybe… Maybe you can join me when you’re done.”

The thought of Brooks in a tub of steaming water wearing nothing but that beat up cowboy hat made my mouth go dry. “I’ll be back before you can miss me,” I promised, then headed out into the snow.

The cold hit me like a wall, but Brooks’ coat was warm and smelled like him; hay and leather with a hint of aftershave. I trudged through the drifts toward the barn, following the path I’d cut earlier that morning. The snow had covered most of it, but I could still make out the general direction.

The livestock greeted me with impatient moos and snorts when I finally wrestled the barn door open. The interior was considerably warmer than outside, the body heat from the animals creating a sanctuary from the bitter cold.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” I said, shaking snow from my shoulders. “Dinner is served.”

I went about the chores as Brooks had instructed, filling water troughs and distributing hay.

His system was efficient, everything in its place.

It spoke of a man who’d spent years perfecting his routine, a man who took pride in doing things right.

I was grateful he had a small herd. Anything larger and I might’ve been in over my head.

As I worked, I couldn’t help but think about what Brooks had shared with me.

The losses he’d suffered, the way he’d closed himself off to protect what was left of his heart.

It made me ache for him, for all the years he’d spent alone out here.

No wonder he was so hungry for touch, so eager to connect.

And so resistant to letting anyone close.

By the time I finished with the animals, my fingers were numb despite the gloves, and my face stung from the cold.

The snow was still coming down, though lighter now, fat flakes drifting lazily from the darkening sky.

I made one last stop at the far end of the barn to check on the calf I’d stitched up only to find him romping around the pen like nothing had ever happened.

Clearly, he was doing just fine. Smiling, I trudged back to the cabin, dreaming about hot coffee and the promise of a shared bath.

The warmth that greeted me when I opened the door was heavenly. I stomped my boots on the mat and shrugged out of Brooks’ enormous coat, hanging it carefully on the hook by the door.

“Brooks?” I called, noticing the main room was empty. The fire was still crackling in the hearth, but there was no sign of him on the couch.

“In here,” his voice called from somewhere down the hall. “Bath’s ready if you’re interested.”

My heart skipped a beat. I followed the sound of his voice to a small bathroom at the back of the cabin.

Steam billowed out when I opened the door, revealing Brooks already submerged in an old claw-foot tub, his broad shoulders glistening with water.

The room was lit with a few candles, casting a warm glow across his features.

His cowboy hat hung on a nearby hook, his dark hair damp and pushed back from his forehead.

“Thought you might be cold after tending to the animals,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Water’s still hot.”

I tried not to stare at the expanse of his fuzzy chest visible above the water line, the defined muscles and dark hair trailing down beneath the surface. I failed miserably.

“The animals are fine,” I managed, suddenly feeling overdressed and awkward. “The calf’s acting like he never got hurt in the first place.”

Brooks smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes and made the corners crinkle. “That’s good. You got a way with ‘em.” He shifted slightly, water sloshing against the sides of the tub. “You gonna stand there all night, or you gonna join me?”

My mouth went dry. “The tub looks a little small for two,” I said, even as my fingers moved to the buttons of my flannel shirt. “I’m not sure we’ll both fit.”

“We’ll make it work,” Brooks drawled, his eyes darkening as he watched me undress. “I’m willin’ to get real cozy if you are.”

I chuckled, unbuttoning my shirt and letting it fall to the floor.

The way Brooks watched me—like I was water in the desert—made my skin feel hot despite the chill that still clung to me from outside.

I stripped down completely, aware of his gaze tracking every movement, lingering on my cock as it hardened under his scrutiny.

“Like what you see, cowboy?” I asked, suddenly feeling bold.

Brooks licked his lips, the gesture unconscious and all the more erotic for it. “More than like,” he said, voice rough. “Get in here before I haul you in myself.”

I stepped into the tub, the hot water a shock against my cold skin. It took some maneuvering—Brooks wasn’t wrong about us making it cozy—but eventually I settled between his legs, my back to his chest. He wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling me tight against him.

“This is nice,” I murmured, leaning back against the solid warmth of his chest. His erection pressed against the small of my back, hot and insistent, but neither of us made a move to escalate things. For now, this closeness was enough.

“Real nice,” Brooks agreed, his breath warm against my ear. His hand traced lazy patterns across my chest, fingers threading through the hair there before dipping lower to tease my stomach. “Been a long time since I shared a bath with anyone.”

“Been a long time since you shared anything with anyone,” I said softly, not accusingly.

Brooks was quiet for a moment, his hand stilling on my abdomen. “Yeah,” he finally admitted. “Reckon that’s true.” His arms tightened around me slightly. “Don’t mind sharin’ with you, though.”

The simple admission made my heart swell. I turned my head to look at him, finding his face closer than I expected. “I’m glad,” I whispered, then pressed my lips to his .

The kiss was slow and deep, unhurried despite the desire building between us.

Brooks’ hand slid lower, wrapping around my cock beneath the water, stroking me with deliberate, tender movements that had me gasping into his mouth.

I reached back, finding his cock and returning the favor, awkward as the angle was.

“Want you again,” Brooks murmured against my lips, his voice a low rumble that I could feel through my back. “Keep thinkin’ about this mornin’. ‘Bout how good you felt.”

I wanted to lean into it, to let him have his way with me, but something was tickling the back of my mind.

“Brooks?” I said, pulling his hand away gently. “Is this…” I paused, taking a deep breath. “What does all this mean to you?”

I felt his body tense against me, his gaze locking onto mine. “What do you mean?”

“I know we’re snowed in together and things got heated,” I said, trying not to sound accusatory, because it was my fault we’d ended up fucking in the first place. “But once the storm passes and the snow melts… what then?”

Brooks stared at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. Just when it seemed like he was going to answer me, he turned his eyes down toward the water.

“We should probably mop this water up,” he said quietly. “Before it ruins the floor.”

My heart sank even though it was the answer I’d been expecting.

Brooks had made it clear he didn’t want to get close to anyone.

And despite that and my own rules, I’d allowed myself to be hopeful.

All those sweet things he’d said to me and all those tiny intimate moments had eaten through my defenses.

And now, whether I liked it or not, I was going to hurt. It was nobody’s fault but my own.

“Right,” I nodded, sliding away from him. “The floor.”