Cathy Thacker - One Wild Cowboy and A Cowboy To Marry - One Wild Cowboy / A Cowboy to Marry

“Emily, everyone saw that. It looked pretty hot.”

It had been hot. Their tumble into bed the evening before, hotter still. But sex wasn’t everything. Even between friends. Emily bit her lip. “I’m just not sure we’re compatible in the ways that count.”

Kyle chuckled. “You mean he’s not makeover material.”

“I haven’t tried to make him over.” Not like she had in the past. She hadn’t gone clothes shopping with him, helped decorate his place or suggested a way to further his career aspirations—like she had with the previous guys she had dated....

Clearly not seeing the difference in her approach to this male-female relationship, Kyle lifted a skeptical brow. “Well, that’s good. Because unlike your previous boyfriends—who, by the way, were all way too malleable for their own good—Dylan is a man who operates on the strength of his convictions. And I don’t see that changing. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

* * *

EMILY HAD PROMISED herself she would not get enmeshed in any more dead-end romances. Which left her with only one choice.

“I think we should be friends,” she told Dylan, when she showed up at his ranch that afternoon.

“I thought we already were. Or at least were on the way to becoming good friends.”

“What I mean is,” Emily explained, aware her voice sounded a little rusty, and her emotions felt all out of whack, too, “I don’t think we should have sex again.”

Their glances locked and they shared another moment of tingling awareness. Finally, Dylan said, “It was that bad, hmm?”

Emily told herself not to read anything into the concern in his eyes. “You know it wasn’t,” she murmured, blushing. The truth was she had climaxed like crazy under his masterful touch. “But sex complicates things. I don’t need additional complications right now. My life is chaotic enough.”

Dylan rocked back on his heels. He tore off his leather work gloves and braced his hands on his hips. “Okay.”

Emily tore her gaze from his rock-solid chest and abs. She looked into his eyes, a little surprised he hadn’t argued with her. She cleared her throat. “You’re fine with this?”

The tension between Dylan’s shoulder blades eased. “You just told me no. I respect that, and I will honor that.” His gaze gentling all the more, he flashed her a crooked smile meant to conciliate. He stepped closer and lifted a hand to her cheek, briefly touching the side of her face. “That doesn’t mean I still don’t want to have sex with you. So,” he said, and slanted her a telling look, “if you change your mind and decide you would like to have sex with me again, it’s up to you to let me know.”

Emily wasn’t used to guys being this reasonable. Aware her face was still tingling from his brief, sensual touch, she drew a deep breath. “Okay, then.”

“Okay.” Another pause. He scanned her Western-wear-clad form. “Did you want to help with the mustangs?” he asked finally, as cheerful as ever when it came to his work.

Emily smiled, glad her efforts to redirect their relationship had worked out so well. “I would love to.”

Dylan turned and headed for the training area. “Salt and Pepper have already been put through their paces today.”

Falling into step beside him, Emily teased, “Saving the best for last?”

Dylan winked. “I figured you would show up, and since Ginger clearly is your favorite...” He walked into the round pen, motioning for Emily to join him.

This time, when he shut the gate, Ginger came right over to him. Everywhere Dylan went, the mustang followed. He petted her nose, her mane, her neck. Ran a hand under her abdomen, across her flanks and down her legs. The beautiful mare seemed to not just tolerate his handling of her, but welcome it.

A phenomenon Emily understood all too well...

“I noticed you’re not disagreeing with my assessment that you’ve been playing favorites with the herd,” Dylan said.

Flushing with guilt, Emily shrugged. “What can I say? Ginger’s complicated and challenging. I’m trying to understand her.”

Dylan nodded his agreement, looking as if that was a conundrum he understood all too well. “The question is, will she allow us to tame her?”

“What do you mean?” Emily watched rancher and horse interact with teamlike proficiency. “It’s been less than a week and Ginger is already following you around the pen, going wherever you go....”

“You’re right, she is watching my every move. Unfortunately, her curiosity is more than a demonstration of interest—it’s an expression of fear.” He met her eyes. “A horse doesn’t bother to investigate something that it is not afraid of. A horse isn’t curious unless it harbors some uncertainty. And that underlying fear can make a horse unpredictable.”

Emily watched Dylan pick up one hoof. Ginger bucked slightly and wrested her leg from his light, testing grasp.

Dylan went back to stroking Ginger all over. When she was calm, he tried again, picking up her foot. Again, she resisted but he didn’t back down.

And on and on it went, until at last Ginger gave in and let Dylan touch and rub and inspect all four feet without complaint.

“Now you try,” Dylan said, while holding on to the lightweight training halter on Ginger’s head.

Emily—whose only experience had been with the tame-from-birth quarter horses her father bred and trained—moved away from the wall.

Ginger eyed Emily warily while Dylan murmured soothingly and stroked her face. She pricked her ears and lifted her head slightly, inspecting Emily with her dark, soulful eyes. She seemed to be waiting to see if she could trust Emily as much as Dylan.

Emily took her time, just as Dylan had. Murmuring softly, she explained every step she took, every move she made. Ginger reacted in kind, calmly allowing Emily to pet her all over. Then finally, tenderly nosing Emily’s hands, before gently nuzzling her face.

“I think she’s in love,” Dylan said softly.

I think I could be in love, Emily thought. With both of you. If I were foolish, that is. Good thing I’m not.

The mustang wasn’t hers to keep, and neither was Dylan. Ginger had a home to go to—when she was trained. Dylan already had a home of his own; he’d made it clear for years now that he didn’t want to share it with anyone.

Nothing about that seemed to have changed.

Emily shrugged off the compliment. “She knows kindness when she sees it.”

Dylan slipped outside the gate and came back with two apples. He tossed them to Emily. “Reward her.”

She did.

Dylan returned Ginger to the paddock with Salt and Pepper, then strode back, praise in his eyes. “Now it’s time for me to reward you,” he said, flashing her a sexy grin.

Emily knew what quickly sprang to her mind, despite their new just-friends status. Afraid she would get herself in just as deep as she had the night before if she didn’t watch it, she warned herself to slow down. She put up a staying hand. “You really don’t have to do that, Dylan. Just being able to spend time with Ginger is thanks enough.”

“You don’t want to owe anyone anything? I don’t want to be beholden to anyone, either.” He looked at her, his mind clearly made up. “So I’m taking you to dinner as payment. It’s up to you to say when and where.”

Chapter Seven

Dylan waited while Emily stood, tapping her foot and considering her options. “Tonight. The Cowtown Diner.”

Where she was likely to run into Xavier Shillingsworth again? “You’re joking,” Dylan said mildly.

Her expression innocent, Emily swept off her hat and ran her fingers through her silky locks. “I figure we should be neighborly. And since you’re paying...”