Marin Thomas - The Cowboy Next Door

“My wallet’s on the floor in the bathroom.” He nibbled her breast before leaving her to retrieve a condom.

When he returned, Shannon lay on the bed like a bewitching siren, her damp hair spread across the pillow, her green eyes beckoning. His last sane thought as he sheathed himself was how surreal the moment felt and that he hoped he’d never wake up from this fantasy.

* * *

JOHNNY WOKE TO the feel of Shannon snuggled against his side. He took shallow breaths and lay motionless—afraid to wake her. Afraid to confront what had just happened.

The morning sun peeked through the one-inch gap between the drapes and the air conditioner—illuminating the room enough that he could see Shannon’s face. He swallowed hard. With her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open, she looked younger than her twenty-four years.

What in the hell had he done?

He closed his eyes and silently cursed.

She’s practically your sister.

Last night Shannon hadn’t behaved like a little sister and he hadn’t behaved like a big brother. What was the matter with him? He should have been looking out for her, not taking advantage of her.

She’s too young for you.

Nine years separated them. She might be younger, but she seemed older—maybe because she’d grown up in an all-male household and had learned to be tough and independent practically from birth. If their age difference wasn’t enough to convince him to leave her alone then the fact that her father had hired him as the new foreman of the Triple D should be reason enough to keep his hands to himself.

He couldn’t afford to screw up his job with Shannon’s father. He needed the steady income to pay the mortgage on the farm until he found an agricultural company to lease the orchards. The pecan grove had been in the family four generations and losing the land would cause Johnny’s grandfather to roll over in his grave. As his mother’s firstborn, he’d experienced a special bond with his grandfather—the old man had offered a guiding hand when Johnny’s own father had wanted nothing to do with raising him. Johnny would do everything in his power to ensure the farm remained in the family.

Shannon stretched lazily against his side, her fingers caressing his groin. A shock, strong enough to jump-start his heart, raced through his body. He should grab his clothes and split, but someone had to be the grown-up this morning.

Before he talked himself into making love to her for a third time, he rolled off the mattress and escaped to the bathroom, where he took a cold shower and dressed in yesterday’s clothes. When he stepped into the bedroom, Shannon was sitting up against the headboard, the sheet tucked beneath her arms—thank God. Telling her that what they’d shared had been a mistake would be impossible if he had to stare at her naked breasts.

Shannon waited for Johnny to make eye contact. Sex with him had been amazing. She never would have guessed that she and Dixie’s brother would have hit it off in bed the way they had.

Finally he looked at her. “We need to talk about what happened,” he said.

Boy, howdy, did they. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand, then silently cursed and leaped from the bed, dragging the sheet with her. “C.J. and I have to leave in fifteen minutes,” she said, shutting the bathroom door in Johnny’s face.

She made quick use of the facilities then, realizing her clothes were in the other room, she wrapped the sheet around her and opened the door. Johnny stood by the window holding her bra and panties.

“I’m sorry, Shannon.” He grimaced. “I accept full blame—” his gaze cut to the bed “—for what happened.”

Sorry? Swell, just what every girl yearns to hear the morning after.

She snatched her lingerie from his hand. He might act like making love hadn’t been a big deal—but they both knew they’d set the sheets on fire. Even though she’d been with only three guys—Johnny being one of them—their lovemaking was unlike anything she’d experienced before, and she knew he’d enjoyed it, because he’d been pretty darn vocal.

He spun when she dropped the sheet to put on her panties. “Seems like just yesterday I was bandaging your knees and wiping your runny nose.”

“You’re nine years my senior. So what?” Obviously their age difference bothered him.

“Old enough to know better.”

“I’m decent now.”

“Like I said, I’m sorry.” Gaze glued to the tips of his boots, Johnny walked to the door. “Good luck at the rodeo. Drive safe.”

Then he was gone.

Tears burned her eyes, but she held them at bay and blamed her wishy-washy emotions on too little sleep. After she tugged on her boots, she carried the truck keys and her cell phone outside to see if C.J. had come back to the motel or spent the night somewhere else.

Johnny’s truck was gone from its parking spot—he’d wasted no time making a getaway. She shielded her eyes from the sun and scanned the rows of vehicles. There in the back sat the familiar black Dodge with the big red-and-yellow boot painted on the door. While she waited for C.J. she might as well phone her father—maybe it would take her mind off of Johnny.

Shannon cut through the lot toward the truck and punched the number 7 on her speed dial. “Hey, Dad, did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, I’m on my way to the barn.”

Good. Short phone calls were best between them.

“I won yesterday in Gila Bend.”

“Congratulations,” he said.

As much as Shannon loved her father, just once she’d like to hear excitement in his voice when they talked about her rodeo career. She knew he didn’t believe women should ride bulls—neither did her brothers, but she’d been competing in roughstock events since high school and that’s what she knew how to do best.

“I’m getting closer to winning that title, Dad. I can almost taste it.” Her father had been a National Champion in bareback riding and both her brothers had won rodeo titles—Luke in bull riding and Matt in team roping. National titles were in the Douglas DNA and Shannon intended to earn one herself.

“You comin’ home soon?” he asked.

“C.J. and I are traveling to California, but we’ll be back at the end of the month to compete in Yuma. Maybe you can come watch me.” Silence greeted her suggestion.

What happened to the man who’d praised her when she’d been a little girl beating out the boys in all the mutton bustin’ competitions? Back then, her father hadn’t cared that she acted like a boy. Then one day she woke up with breasts and suddenly he insisted she quit rodeo.

Time to change the subject. “How are things at the ranch?”

“Might have a buyer for Cinnamon.”

After her mother had walked out on the family when Shannon was three, her father had focused his energy on growing his cutting horse operation. Now that her brothers were busy with their law practice in Yuma and she traveled the circuit all year, most of the horse training fell on his shoulders.

“Is Roger excited about retiring?” The foreman had worked at the ranch for over three decades. This past year, he’d fallen and broken his hip, requiring a hip-replacement operation. Her father had finally convinced the seventy-five-year-old man that it was time to put away the branding iron.

“You know Roger. He doesn’t have a whole lot to say,” her father said.

Maybe not, but Shannon bet the ranch hand looked forward to spending time with his sister in Florida. “Have you hired anyone to take his place?” Aside from raising cutting horses her father ran a small herd of cattle on the property—more than enough work to keep two men busy.

“Johnny Cash.”

Shannon sucked in a quiet breath. Why hadn’t Johnny told her he was the new foreman? No wonder he’d beat a hasty retreat this morning. He was probably worried how her father would react if he found out about their tryst.