Vivian Arend - Rocky Mountain Angel

Sex had changed things. That was the best reason he could come up with, and yet it didn’t seem to be the complete answer.

This morning when he’d woken and found her already out of his bed, the nudge of something missing had been more than just a physical need to take her all over.

He stared out the window and held her close, her warmth wrapping him up tighter than binder twine. The sweet scent of her body lotion drifted to his nostrils, combining with the images he had of licking her skin, and suddenly he wasn’t thinking about the man who lay passed out in his guest room. He was plotting how soon he could get Allison alone and naked.

A bolt of remorse hit hard enough to shake his limbs.

Allison’s head swung up, her gaze searching his face. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

The demons of the past poked his gut with blazing-hot pitchforks. If he could have shouted out his frustration without scaring her half to death, he would have.

Instead, he caught her face in his hand. Stroked his thumb over her cheekbone. “I’m fine.”

She raised a brow. “Interesting. You called bullshit on Travis for using that word a few minutes ago.”

“Smarty-pants.”

He couldn’t stop himself. Leaned over and pressed their lips together for a brief, intense kiss.

When he stepped away, one corner of her mouth was turned up. She’d found her smile again, even though it was far more tense than usual. “You sure you’re okay? Need me to do anything while we wait for Tamara?”

A number of suggestions sprang to mind. None of them he could voice, all of which increased his guilt. How he could have sex on the brain at a time like this was stupid. “I’m kind of lost right now as to what to do.”

“If Travis is capable of staying on his feet, maybe we should head out for a bit.”

“Leave?” That idea hadn’t crossed his mind. “What if they need me?”

Allison’s nose twitched, as if she were fighting to find the right way to say something. Finally she shrugged. “If you really think you should stay, you should. Only, you can’t fix whatever is wrong, Gabe. It’s great Travis felt comfortable coming to you for help, but either Cassidy needs a hospital or he needs to sleep. Neither of which you have to be here to supervise.”

She was right, but actually walking away—he wasn’t sure he could do that.

Allison reached up and brushed his arm. “Gabe, you decide for you, but maybe they’d like less people in their business. I think I’ll go before Tamara gets here. I’ve already heard more secrets than I should have.”

“Travis had no problems with it,” Gabe pointed out.

She lowered her voice. “He thinks we’re getting married.”

Shit.

Gabe twisted to face the guest room. The shower had stopped, and Travis would probably be out in a few minutes. He’d left some clothes for his cousin to borrow to replace his torn and stained things.

Allison was right. He’d done what he could, and it wasn’t his job to stick around longer. Even though everything in him screamed for him to stay, their deception was forgivable up until the point it started impacting other people.

Neither he nor Allison needed to know more secrets.

He turned back and caught her fingers in his, squeezing them tight. “You really are a smart one. How fast can you grab what you need to head out for the morning?”

“Five minutes.”

He nodded, glancing back to see Travis emerge from the bedroom. “Go on—if you need the bathroom, it’s free. I’ll talk to Travis for a minute then meet you at the stable.”

“Riding?”

He’d blow off his morning work and put in time later. A head’s up to Rafe would be enough to let the kid know to start alone. “If that works for you.”

“I’d like to ride. It’s been a few days since I got out.”

They separated, Allison stopping as she passed Travis to give him a quick hug.

His cousin stared after her for a minute before slipping into the guest room. “She’s alright.”

Gabe snorted slowly, trying not to disturb the man on the bed. “Thanks for your vote of approval. Tamara is on her way over, and Allison and I are going to head out.”

Travis pulled the chair from under the desk and propped it beside the bed, straddling the seat and resting his arms on the rail back. “I’m a shit for bringing him here.”

Gabe shook his head. “I don’t mind. I mean that, and if he needs a place to crash for a few days, he’s welcome. But only if he’s healthy.”

“Just got the crap beat out of him is all.”

Gabe wasn’t ready to try to figure out why Travis wasn’t looking him in the eye. “Great. Because that’s so much better than needing to sleep off a drunken bender or something.”

Travis sprawled over the chair back and swore lightly. “Shit, that’s not what I meant. Just trying to tell you he’s not on drugs, or somehow dangerous. I never would have brought him here if he were, okay? I do have some sense.”

“I didn’t think you would. And you have tons of sense, when you use it. Fuckhead.”

Travis grinned at the insult. “Yeah, this time, you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” Gabe stood from where he’d been leaning on the doorpost. “I’ll have my phone. Call me if you need to take him in, and we’ll come back so I can give you a hand. If not, make yourself at home. We’ll be out until around lunch. Oh, and don’t let the cat out.”

His cousin didn’t answer, just checked to see that Cassidy was still breathing, then lowered his head to his forearms and let out a huge sigh.

Gabe snuck from the room, exiting the house to meet Allison by the horses.

Walking away was tough. Really tough. Only the thought of what he was walking toward kept his feet moving.

She worked efficiently, lifting the saddle in place. Securing the girth smoothly, her hands easing over Patches’s belly.

He had to drag his gaze away and pay attention to Hurricane before his horse stomped him underfoot for trying to slip the bridle over his ass or something. Gabe hadn’t been this distracted in a long time.

It was an uneasy sensation, and yet a twist of pleasure in it as well, and damn if he could figure out why.

Allison stepped from behind her horse and smiled at him. “You said riding, but where are we going? We don’t need any more samples.”

“Forget the tests. Let’s ride along Whiskey Creek.”

“Now I’m feeling doubly guilty.”

He jerked to a stop. The guilt he was trying to ignore poked him, and he beat it down ruthlessly. “Why?”

She held Patches’s reins in one hand, slipping her fingers along the strips of leather over and over. “Not only did I order you to get out of your own house, I’m keeping you from work. I have the morning off, but you don’t. Do you want me to come help with your chores instead?”

Not if there was any chance of them running into his father. Ben’s caustic comments had slowed, but the threat of the bitter sting from his tongue hovered over everything—like a loaded trap, ready to snap closed at the least little provocation.

No way was he taking her near the man. “I called Rafe. He knows I’ll be around after lunch.”

She swung into the saddle and tucked her hair behind her ears, adjusting her hat. Her smile was a little shaky. “I hope everything is okay with Cassidy.”

“He’ll be all right.” Gabe put more confidence in the words than he felt. “Come on. Let’s warm them up so we can run.”

They followed the old trails across the sun-warmed fields, increasing pace slowly as the horses tossed their heads and stepped impatiently. Summertime heat and a total lack of breeze made the scents of the ground rise around them, earth baked and rich.

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was following. Allison’s cheeks were flushed with colour, her bright eyes taking in the scenery around them as she swayed comfortably in the saddle. Her blouse clung to her breasts, and every time she rocked, the fabric drew taut over her curves.

Another jolt hit his gut. A hunger—and yet more.

They had slipped into the physical relationship partly as a coping strategy. Her to deal with the pain she saw coming, and him to deal with the pain he felt every fucking day.

The counsellor he’d seen back in the day would have been proud to know some of the lessons about ways people dealt with shit had actually sunk in.

Whatever their reasons for diving into bed, there was no reason to apologize for it. They were both consenting adults, and the time they spent shaking each other’s bodies to the physical limits wasn’t hurting anyone.

Only now he wasn’t so sure that it was just about the rocking sex. The fact he couldn’t keep his mind on what had to be the most important task in his life was making him stupid.

Over the past couple years, he’d learned a lot about goal setting. He’d managed to start a section of the land to be free range and totally organic without letting his father know. Got the turkeys in place, and begun work on breeding lines for the cattle—all of that he’d worked on in addition to his usual tasks without ever losing his concentration. If he’d been as mush-minded over the past two years as he’d been this week, even his cabin would have come to crap, a pile of ideas instead of a place for him, Allison and other strays to find refuge.

A few truths grew a little more apparent to one narrow-focused cowboy. Some of his strategies for revamping the ranch had been shot down over the past month. What had potential on paper wasn’t possible in the here and now. Not with the current market, not with the land he had at his disposal. With every new revelation, he’d taken it in stride and moved forward as best he could, because he was positive what the final outcome had to be. Adjusting plans didn’t mean abandoning them.