Cindy Kirk - Betting On The Maverick

“That hard head of yours hurting?” he asked in an insolent tone.

“What’s it to you?”

“Just wondering if I’m going to have to strap you across the back of my horse to get you back to the house.”

“In your dreams,” she shot back, relieved he’d responded with cocky arrogance rather than sympathy.

“Viper looks thirsty.”

Margot glanced at Vivian. Though the temperature was a mild sixty, the heeler visibly panted. With so much going on and despite the fullness around the dog’s midsection, it was easy to forget Vivi was pregnant.

Though Margot hadn’t thought to bring any water with her, there was a creek nearby. She pushed to her feet, discovering that the short break had eased the headache into the manageable range.

“I can—” Brad began.

“She won’t go with you,” Margot said in a matter-of-fact tone. “And she won’t leave me.”

“Then I guess we take a walk together.” He reached out to take her arm but after seeing her pointed look, dropped his hand. “You got some hang-up about a man touching you?”

“I most certainly do not,” Margot retorted before realizing she’d played right into his hands. “I don’t know you. I don’t particularly like you. That’s why I don’t want you touching me.”

His gaze met hers. “Liar.”

“What are you talking about?” Margot sputtered.

“You want me to touch you,” he said as if speaking the gospel from the pulpit. “But you’re scared of what might happen once I do.”

“Oh, for the love of—” She reined in her emotions. “You are so incredibly arrogant. You think every woman is interested in that hot body of yours.”

A grin spread across his face, like a kid opening a present at Christmastime. “You think my body is hot?”

“Let’s get a few things straight. I’m not interested in touching you. I’m not interested in sleeping with you. I am interested in getting you out of my house.”

“My house,” he corrected. “And you are interested in sleeping with me. You just won’t admit it.”

“There’s nothing to admit.” She flung her hands up in the air, drawing Vivian’s watchful gaze as the dog lapped up crystal-clear water from the bubbling creek.

“Come on,” Brad teased. “This attraction between us is so strong it’s a wonder we haven’t both burst into flames.”

“Delude yourself all you want.” Margot kept her face expressionless. There was no way, no way , she was letting him know that she found him the teensiest bit attractive. “I have a compromise I’d like to propose.”

“No touching below the waist?”

“Shut up.” She fought to hide a smile. The guy never gave up. “I’m talking about the house.”

She inhaled deeply, that crisp scent of autumn in the air. It wouldn’t be long before the temperature would drop and the cool breeze would turn frigid. The cattle would need to be fed. She’d have to fire up the tractor and attach the blade so she could plow the lane once the snow came. With four-wheel drive, at least her truck would get around.

How had her dad managed these past few years, she wondered? Even before her mother passed, it wasn’t as if Giselle was the outdoorsy type. He had no sons to help, no family nearby and he’d told his only daughter to take a hike. Had there been a growing sense that the ranch was becoming too much for him to handle? Had he secretly considered the land a burden?

Certainly she’d seen a few signs that she’d chosen to ignore. Because every time she confronted him he got belligerent.

Her dad had always been proud of how he’d maintained the ranch. But, even before her mom died, Margot had noticed that some things were being neglected. Last year he hadn’t even gotten up the snow fence and the drifts had blocked the lane until he’d been able to get the tractor out and plow.

Once her mom had passed, it was as if she’d taken any drive he’d possessed with her. Of course, most of that lethargy could be due to the alcohol.

“We need to get back,” Brad said abruptly.

“We haven’t finished our talk.”

“If you’re not interested in making out, there’s nothing keeping us here.”

“Is everything about sex with you?”

He paused, considered. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Not sure how to respond to such a comment, Margot said nothing, merely returned to her horse and mounted. “Forget a compromise. Once we get back to the house, I want you to pack up your stuff and go back to the Shooting Star. Once my dad returns, we can sort out what he owes.”

“Good try.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He mounted the roan with an ease that spoke of long years in the saddle. “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t know how many times I have to say this, but this is my home now. Legally.”

“Oh, so you’re saying I have to leave?”

That would happen when hell froze over, she thought to herself.

“Absolutely not.” He gave her a little wink. “I want you to stay.”

“You do?”

“How else are we ever going to become, ah, intimately acquainted, if you’re living somewhere else?”

* * *

The invitation to accompany Brad to his parents’ house for dinner that evening surprised her. She was ready to say no when she realized that this might be an opportunity. As she’d had no luck in convincing Brad to move out, perhaps she could get his parents on her side and they could convince him.

Margot dressed carefully for the dinner though she knew she’d probably have been properly attired in jeans and a nice shirt. But this wasn’t neighbors getting together for a barbecue; this was a business meeting of sorts. With this fact in mind, she’d pulled out a pair of black pants and topped them with a green sweater. Instead of cowboy boots, she pulled on a pair of shiny heeled ones. She even took a little extra time with her makeup.

Though she was most happy in jeans, she had just enough of her girlie mother in her to enjoy dressing up occasionally.

Her fingers moved to the horseshoe necklace around her neck. It had been a gift from her mother when she was ten and had participated in her first big rodeo. Though many of the girls were older, she’d been excited to get second place.

Her father had been less than impressed. It was the first, but certainly not the last, time she’d heard his “second place is the first loser” speech.

Margot’s fingers tightened around the horseshoe. Her mother’s faith in her ability had never faltered and Margot was determined not to disappoint her now. She would find her father, bring him home and get the deed to the ranch back, one way or the other.

She gave Vivian a scrub on the top of her head. “You’ll have the whole house to yourself tonight, Vivi. Relax and enjoy.”

Suddenly cognizant of the time, Margot rushed out of the bedroom and slammed into Brad.

“Whoa, there, filly.” His strong hands steadied her.

She inhaled sharply and breathed in the intoxicating scent of his cologne. As her gaze took in his dark pants and gray shirt, she realized she wasn’t the only one who’d done a little dressing up. “We’re going to be late.”

The second the words slipped past her lips she wished she could pull them back. “We’re” made it sound too much like they were a couple, which they weren’t, not at all.

“Plenty of time,” Brad said easily, his appreciative gaze studying her from head to toe. “You look nice.”

He sniffed the air. “Smell good, too. Did you put on that flowery perfume for me? I definitely approve.”

“Why you—” For a second Margot was tempted to rush back in her room and wash off the scent she’d impulsively sprayed on after her shower. But that would only make her look like a gauche sixteen-year-old. And she hadn’t been that for an awfully long time. So instead she laughed and patted his cheek. “Oh, you poor deluded man.”