Cathy Gillen - The Texas Rancher's Vow

“Might help to breathe,” he said.

He was right, Jen realized belatedly. She had been holding her breath. She let it out, then sucked in a rush of air that did little to dispel the tension coiled inside her.

She blotted the rain from her face with the backs of her hands. Pretty sure her mascara was running, she reached into her handbag for a tissue and dabbed it beneath her eyes. Feeling marginally better, she dropped the soiled tissue back in her purse, then cleared her throat, still trying to calm down. “How did you know where to find me?”

Matt shrugged, his broad shoulders straining against the soft cotton of his shirt. “If you were coming back from town, I figured you’d be on this road.” He paused to send her a brief, probing glance. “The question is, what were you doing parked in that field?” He turned his attention back to the road. “If you were broken down, why didn’t you call for help?”

I wished I could have called you.

Aware that she felt safer than she had in a long while, being here with him, she gestured out the window. “No cell phone reception.”

Matt’s lips compressed. “Yeah, coverage is spotty this far out of town.” His strong, capable hands clasped the wheel. “We have it on the ranch because we put up our own tower. Most don’t.”

“I’ll remember that next time.”

He looked her over, taking in her windswept hair and rain-splattered skirt and blouse. “What was wrong with your van?”

There was concern in his eyes. A protectiveness that shouldn’t mean anything to her.

She feigned indifference—to both the situation and his gallantry—while she rubbed at the splatters of mud on her bare calves. “The radiator has a leak.” Her voice was hoarse and she cleared her throat again. “I didn’t check it before I left because I had just filled it yesterday afternoon, when I got here. But what was in there must have mostly evaporated.”

He scowled. “It’ll do that in this kind of weather, when there’s a leak.”

“Yeah, well, now I know that.” Jen sighed, her emotions roiling.

She squared her shoulders and tugged her skirt down, trying to prove to him that she was one hundred percent in charge of the situation, when of course she wasn’t. She didn’t seem to be in charge of anything when it came to Matt Briscoe.

Swallowing, she continued weakly, “I have no idea whose property I pulled off on….”

He shot her an evocative look. “The Armstrong ranch.”

Jen shivered in the cool air blowing out of the vents. Her blouse was damp, her arms bare. She ran her palms over her skin in an effort to warm herself. “I hope they don’t mind.”

Matt leaned forward to adjust the controls. Then his gaze drifted over her again. “I’m sure they won’t.”

Jen looked away from his handsome profile, the masculine set of his jaw. Aware that her nipples had pebbled—and he had definitely noticed—she crossed her arms in front of her and did her best to discreetly pluck the fabric away from her breasts. “How old is this pickup?”

Matt slowed as they neared the iron gate of the Triple B. “Sixteen years, give or take.”

Jen drew a shuddering breath. “It’s in really nice condition.” The bench seat seemed to have new leather. The dash and doors were equally pristine. Unfortunately, she had tracked mud onto the floor mat.

His large capable hands circling the wheel, he turned effortlessly into the lane. “Thanks.”

They traveled up the driveway in silence. “So it’s yours?” she asked when they finally reached the house, aware that—rational or not—she didn’t want this time with him to end.

“Yep.” Matt parked close to the porch and cut the motor. He eyed the pouring rain with a frown.

In no hurry to emerge from the cab and get soaked again, either, Jen relaxed in her seat and flashed a small smile. “How long have you had it?”

Matt released the buckle on his safety belt. “Since I got my learner’s permit.” With a sentimental gleam in his eyes, he admitted, “I learned to drive in it.”

Made sense, Jen mused. Years ago, this sturdy Ford 250 would have been the perfect vehicle for him. Now, when he could afford whatever he wanted…

Curiously, she asked, “What else do you drive?” She tried to picture him in a small, trendy sports car, and just couldn’t see it.

One hand resting on the steering wheel, Matt turned toward her. His knee nudged hers, sending another thrill pulsing through her still chilled, overstimulated body. “This is it. Unless it’s in the shop, and then I drive one of the other ranch vehicles. Whatever’s available. Doesn’t matter.”

Jen turned toward him, too.

The porch lights bathed the truck in a circle of warm yellow light, but the windows had already begun to steam up again, giving them a measure of warmth and privacy.

“I can’t believe we have that in common.”

He studied her, interest lighting his eyes. “You learned to drive in that van?”

“Yes.” Needing something to hold on to, Jen curled her fingers around the strap of her shoulder bag. “It belonged to my dad.” She struggled against the poignancy of the moment. “He used it for his housepainting business. I inherited it when he died. And now I use it for the gallery.”

Matt didn’t touch her, but something in the way he looked at her was at least that intimate.

“So it’s sentiment rather than finances that prompts you to keep it,” he guessed finally. “Even though it’s clearly on its last however many miles.”

“Three hundred thousand,” Jen informed him ruefully, glad Matt seemed to understand what few others did about her attachment to the vehicle. “But…yes.”

Another silence fell.

She noted his bemused expression and realized it would be so easy to take this to the next level and succumb to a kiss. For their mutual protection, she drew on formality to douse the spark of attraction between them.

“Thank you for coming to my rescue.” She released a shaky breath, and couldn’t help but add honestly, “I wouldn’t have expected it.” Any more than I would have expected this flood of desire rushing through me.

“Don’t go thanking me too much.” His response was polite enough, but she heard the steel undertone. “It wasn’t my idea. It was my dad’s.” Matt grimaced. “I just didn’t want him out on the roads.”

If Matt meant to push her away, after just drawing her close, he had succeeded.

“Well, thanks for clearing that up,” Jen said wryly as she picked up her bag and reached for the door handle. She planned to make her escape—even if it was still pouring rain. Of course, as luck would have it, the door was locked. And the button that would open it not all that easy to find. Especially in the semidarkness.

Not done with her yet, Matt caught her hand and pulled her around to face him again. His mouth quirked.

“At least that’s what I told myself initially,” he said softly, resting his right arm on the seat behind her. “But it wasn’t the truth.” His other hand came up to cup her face. “I was worried about you, too.”

Jen’s heart took a little leap as his words sank in.

Matt threaded his hand through her hair, and this time his gaze met hers without hesitation or resignation. “I’m glad I found you.”

Chapter Five

Matt wasn’t a guy who’d ever really been in touch with his emotional side. Probably had something to do with the toughness required of him as a kid, when he’d been dealing with his mom’s illness. All he knew for certain was that when it came time to feel something, he usually shut down, dealt with the practical aspect, and then moved on.

That attitude had served him well. Kept him from getting entangled. Until now. Jen made him want to stick around. At least long enough to kiss her again, find out if the chemistry was as potent as the first time they’d locked lips. To see if she felt as good pressed up against him.