IF JO HAD BEEN in a better frame of mind, she might have taken offense at Trace’s quiet physical appraisal. He didn’t seem to know what to make of her, as if torn between viewing her as a wild mustang in need of taming or a sexy mare in heat. And he didn’t seem to know which he wanted her to be.
While some of the residual effects from their heated disagreement last night remained, the day with her parents had pretty much erased petty grudges. In light of the seriousness of her family situation, everything else came up short.
Surprisingly, one of the things that remained was her growing need to be near Trace.
Jo cleared away some brush and then sat down on the hard, dry earth, drawing her knees up and staring out at the setting sun. “Well, it must have been a surprise to see Eric back so early,” she said carefully.
She remembered their conversation in her room last night, before all hell had broken loose. Trace had admitted more with his tone of voice than his words how he felt about his brother. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that more than sibling rivalry existed between the two. And considering all that she’d heard had gone wrong on the ranch that morning, Trace would have been pushed to his limits well before his brother’s unwelcome surprise.
She took a deep breath and stretched out her legs as he took a seat next to her.
“I hear his woman’s coming tomorrow,” she said. “The same time a moving truck’s due to arrive.”
Trace squinted at her.
“Bringing her stuff. Not taking his away.”
Trace stared straight ahead. She wasn’t surprised at his reaction.
“Vern says the two of you have always had a volatile relationship.”
“Yes, well, Vern talks too much.”
She smiled. “Perhaps. But I think he’s worried about you.”
“What makes you think it’s my brother that drove me out here?”
He had her attention.
“Who’s to say it wasn’t you?”
She leaned back on her hands. “And why would it be me?”
“You haven’t asked what happened to Southard.”
She swallowed hard. “That’s because I already know. I called the sheriff’s office this morning. Told him I wouldn’t be pressing charges and that he should be released with a warning.”
“And you did that because…?”
“I did that because without drink, Carter would never have done what he did.”
She stared at him. “Quit trying to change the subject. You didn’t ride out here because of me and you know it.”
His quick glance away told her she was right. While it would have been flattering if she had been the cause for his restlessness, she felt better knowing she wasn’t.
And glad that he wasn’t rejecting her present company.
“Funny how long it takes for the sun to reach the horizon throughout the day, then just when it’s within kissing distance, it sinks right down,” she murmured, watching the golden orb set.
“Mmm.”
She didn’t have to look to know that Trace wasn’t responding to her comment, but rather considering her.
But she wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot.
“The way I see it, if I hope to move from temporary hire to full-time ranch hand,” she stated, “then you and your brother are going to have to bury the proverbial hatchet and start getting along.”
He raised his brow. “Oh?”
“Mmm-hmm. You see, if the two of you are going at it, that leaves the ranch in a state of flux. And the ranch hands at odds and ends.” She shook her head. “I’ve seen it before. And it ain’t pretty.”
“Mmm…pretty.”
“Not pretty,” she emphasized.
“And you think you can help…how?”
“Well, before I can help, I need to understand what sharpened that hatchet you’re holding.”
He stretched his own legs out, his thigh pressing against hers. Jo ran her tongue along her bottom lip, feeling electricity dance along her nerve endings at the innocent touch.
“I don’t want him here.”
Trace appeared as surprised as she was at his words. But now that they were out there, he could take a good long look at them and see if that was how he indeed felt. And whether he wanted to do anything to change it.
“I’ve spent the past six years running this ranch, even though I’m sure he’s convinced I’m nothing but a hired hand doing his bidding from halfway across the world.”
Jo didn’t know what to say, so remained silent.
“Damn it, he doesn’t know the half of what’s been going on around here. The problems I’ve encountered. The celebrations we’ve had. And then he comes riding in here like he’s on some big white steed ready to save the day. A day that doesn’t need saving.”
Jo bit her lip. “Have you tried telling him that?”
“Are you crazy? Every damn time I talk to him. All he does is try to twist my words in order to prove that I’m not ready to take on full responsibility of the ranch.”
He got up, and Jo immediately felt the loss of physical contact.
“Just who in the hell does he think he is? Who does he think has been running this place for the past six years?”
Trace paced away from her and back again, but Jo was convinced he couldn’t see her. And it had nothing to do with the growing darkness.
“I don’t need him here. I don’t want him here. I want him to go up east with his wife and just leave me alone.”
Jo didn’t dare touch his last comment with a ten-foot cattle prod. Instead, she issued a single cry that sounded like a goat’s call.
Trace stopped pacing and stared at her.
She made the sound again.
“Just what in the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Jo pushed herself to her feet as well, advancing on him without fear, without a second thought. She poked her index finger into his chest. “What it means, cowboy, is that you know that kid your brother is accusing you of being? You showed him to me in spades just now. And he’s not only unattractive, he’s downright ugly.”
Trace’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. Jo stood her ground.
“Look, I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t have one clue what’s going on between the two of you. But I am coming to know you. And the whiny kid you’re acting like doesn’t fit anywhere into that neat little picture I’ve begun to paint. You’re screwing with my canvas and I want you to stop.”
“Whiny kid?” he asked incredulously.
“You heard me. And not just any old whiny kid, but one of those snot-nosed, stubborn as a jackass, insufferable so and so’s that you want to take out back for a whupping even though the damn kid’s not even yours.”
Trace rocked back on his heels, obviously stung by her words.
Jo smiled. “Hey, I figure somebody’s gotta be man enough to tell you what’s what.”
“And that man would be you?”
“If the boot fits…”
She wasn’t sure how he was going to react. For all she knew, he would climb up on his horse and ride off to the ranch house without her. But she wasn’t about to back down.
What she hadn’t expected him to do was to reach for her and crush her against the hard wall of his chest and kiss her.
The sweet smell of Texas bluebonnets, the sweep of warm air and the heat of his body combined to leave Jo breathless. She made a small sound as he ran his hands down her back to her bottom, shamelessly pressing her against his stiff manhood, his mouth claiming hers.
And she gave back as good as she got.
Jo fumbled between them to reach for his belt buckle, yanking on the fly to free the fabric from the buttons, and then worked her hand between them to cup his pulsing length in her palm.
Trace groaned, tipping his face toward the sky as if saying a little prayer.
Jo focused her attention on his neck, licking the salt from his skin, nudging aside his collar so she could gain better access to his shoulder. Damn, but he tasted better than any man had a right to.
She squeezed her fingers around his thick shaft and freed his erection from his boxers and jeans, stroking him in the evening air.
One of the horses neighed softly, but neither human paid it any mind as they hungrily pulled and tugged until they were bare from shoulder to toe, Trace laying his shirt on the ground and then lowering her on top of it. He coaxed her legs apart and then filled the empty space with two hundred pounds of long, solid male.
Jo arched her back, yearning for a fuller meeting.
He kissed her neck and then her ear before whispering, “I don’t have anything.”
Jo caught her breath. Protection. She didn’t have any, either. God save her, but she didn’t normally carry condoms along with her ChapStick. Not when all she’d been planning was a ride out on the range.
She held him a little tighter, feeling his pulsing erection pressing against her bare, trembling stomach, and wondered how she’d be able to survive the next five minutes without having him inside her.
Trace grinned. “I don’t have to have intercourse with you to make love to you.”
He started to slide down her body. She gasped, trying to grab his shoulders and force him back up.
She wasn’t surprised that the stubborn son of a gun continued on as if it was of no nevermind to him how she felt…
“PLEASE, TRACE, I don’t like that. I’m not at all comfortable with…oh!”
Trace was pleased when he robbed Jo of words with a simple brush of his mouth against the damp curls between her legs.
He got the distinct impression that she’d never allowed anyone to sample her sweet nectar before. And it satisfied him beyond belief that he was going to be the first.
She tried to squeeze her thighs together. He easily eased them back apart, taking note of the way she seemed to tremble from head to foot. He had little doubt that the moment his mouth touched her molten core, she would come apart. But he wasn’t about to let her go that easily. He had intended to make love to her long and hard. And he was going to. Just in a different way.
Jo bucked underneath him, trying to wriggle away, he was sure. He grasped her hips and pinned her to the ground. Then he burrowed his nose into her silken curls, seeking the tiny nub of flesh buried there. Her musky scent filled his nostrils, suffusing his muscles with the deep, fundamental need to fulfill his woman.
Eureka.
He found the budding flower and tilted his head so that his tongue could follow that same path.
As predicted, Jo exploded into a thousand pieces, the words “no” and “yes” alternating in trembling gasps. Trace relaxed his grip on her. If anything was to convince her of the beauty of oral sex, this was it. He didn’t think he’d be having any problems with her from here on in.
Which was good. Because he wasn’t anywhere near done…