Picking Roses Page 9

  He almost crashed right into her when he stumbled. Damn. She was gonna be the death of him.

  “Les?” She stood, glanced over her shoulder. “You okay, cowboy?”

  “I am. I just… You’re so pretty, honey.” He smiled at her, patting her butt automatically.

  “You make me happy. You hunting eggs?”

  “I am. I’ll be hunting you before it’s over, though.” Might as well be honest.

  Her pretty ass pushed right into his hand. “I should hope so.”

  “Oh, good.” That meant he could get through his breakfast, knowing she was waiting too.

  He managed the bacon, the eggs, without burning anything, and Rose did toast and coffee and orange juice. He sat down at the kitchen table, grabbing her as she walked by. Her belly was soft where her wee top inched up, and her breasts pressed against his cheek. Lord, she was sweet.

  Her curls tumbled around him as she leaned and kissed the top of his head. “Hey.”

  Les breathed deep, humming a little. This was like paradise to an old cowboy like him. Well, a not even middle-aged one, really.

  He slipped her right onto his lap, loving the soft laugh, the way her breasts pressed against him.

  “You’re better than breakfast, Rosie.” He patted her butt, letting her wiggle on him.

  She snatched up a piece of bacon, put it against his lips. “You can have both.”

  “I can, huh? That’s a fine thing.” He munched his way through the bacon, then the toast.

  They managed their breakfast with her sitting right there, snuggled in his lap like she belonged there.

  She fed him bites and he slipped some between her lips and man, it was weirdly hot. He’d always thought it had to be chocolate syrup or something to be sexy food. This was just breakfast, which they’d had several times before. Just not after a night like last night.

  When she leaned down and licked orange juice off his bottom lip, Les gave that stupid line of had to be sexy food thinking right on up. He pushed the plates away so they didn’t break nothin’, figuring it might be time to get a little busy.

  “Am I too heavy? You’re okay?”

  He chuckled at her words. In some things, all girls were the same. She didn’t weigh as much as a bird, his wee lady, but she worried.

  “You’re perfect.” His hands shaped around her butt, those little shorts things not standing in his way at all. Lord, she was a wet dream.

  “Mmm. Your hands are warm.” She snuggled in and kissed him, her hands moving up to cup his face.

  “Well, you’re not exactly chilly, honey.” No, sir. She was on fire.

  She laughed against his lips, then turned to straddle his thighs, scoot forward until they were belly to belly.

  “Oh. Hello.” Hell yes, was what he really meant.

  “Mmmhmm. Hey, cowboy.” Snuggly girl. She unfastened the robe, then scooted in again. “This okay?”

  It would be better if her little top was off.

  “It’s real good.” He nuzzled right in, letting her feel how happy he was.

  Those shorts were soft, teasing his most sensitive skin, and he reached for the bottom of her shirt. It was only fair.

  He pulled it off over her head, her hair tickling him like crazy. Her breasts spilled out, pushing against his chest.

  Her skin was pale, silky, and she smelled so good. Her nipples teased his skin, little points of heat.

  Les reached up and touched one, plucking at it. Les loved the feel of her skin.

  He loved those sweet, tiny noises she offered him too. Part moan, part needy cry—the sounds went straight to his cock. He rubbed up against her, separated from her by the tiniest strip of fabric. Lord. Please.

  “I… I want…” She took his hand, slid it down between them. God, she was wet, slick.

  “Me too.” Oh, he so did. He wanted. He pushed his fingers under her panty-short things and rubbed them against the slickest skin ever, opening her up.

  Rosie gasped, and her hips rocked, moving against his touch easy as anything.

  “That’s my girl.” So wet for him. He lifted her with his other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling at the damned space-aged fabric.

  She helped, swinging one leg around to get the damn things off, then straddling him again.

  Fuck him raw. Les’ eyes rolled back in his head, a rough moan coming from his chest. “Rosie. You ready to ride, girl?”

  “I am.”

  His fingers were still working her, still loving on her, and she started to tremble.

  “Me, too.” Les reluctantly moved his hand, grabbing her hips to lift her up. “Get me in place?”

  Her touch was hot where they wrapped around his shaft, hot enough that his hips bucked up.

  He almost unseated them both with that smooth move, but he managed to hold it together. He guided her hips down, the head of his cock slipping inside.

  Her lips parted, and he got another sweet little sound.

  “Mmmhmm.” Les kissed her open mouth, his tongue sliding right in just like his cock pushed inside her. She was damned perfect, made for him.

  It didn’t surprise him a bit, how they got their rhythm so easy. She fit perfect and they’d already danced.

  Then she did this…thing with her muscles, and that did kind of surprise him. In the best possible way.

  He stared at Rosie and she grinned, looking wicked as all get out. Oh, sweet lady.

  Les let his hips go, let them rise and fall until the chair creaked, until shit on the table shook. He just went with it.

  His hands wrapped around her butt, helping her move, and she pulled him into one kiss after another. His balls drew up hard, his cock swelling even more. God. He was just gonna explode.

  He could feel her, the tight sheath around his shaft starting to ripple, to work him as she got close.

  Les put in a superhuman effort to move his hand, and he pushed down, reaching for her clit. He needed her wild. Crazy.

  “Les!” Oh.

  Oh, sweet Jesus.

  She arched back, her body bowed for him, letting him see everything as she bucked, rode him like a champ.

  “Rosie.” She was right there with him. They came within seconds of each other, both of them panting and shaking.

  His girl. Good Lord, she was something.

  Les stroked her back, up and down, then back up under her hair. He loved her hair.

  “Mmm. Good morning, cowboy.” So that was the sound of well-loved Rosie. Les approved.

  “Morning, honey.” Les rubbed noses with her. “That was a fine howdy.”

  “It was. It so was.” She chuckled. “Thank you for breakfast.”

  “Not a problem. You let me sleep in a bed.” That had been worth a little bacon splatter.

  “You don’t have a bed where you’re staying?” A little line formed between her eyes.

  “Huh?” Oh, shit. He didn’t want her feeling sorry for him, now. “The screened-in porch smells better than sleeping inside.”

  “Les Jacoby! You… You need your rest. It’s hot for you. You’ll be all dehydrated!”

  He blinked. “Well, I got a fan at the Wal-Mart.”

  “You…” She glared at him, stared him right down. “You can stay here. And I don’t want to hear nothing about us making love and now I’m all moving you in and stuff. You can stay on the sofa if you don’t want to share the bed, but that’s not right, my cowboy, sleeping on a porch!”

  Les blinked some more, then grinned. Then he might have whooped a little. “Your cowboy. Yes, ma’am. I am that.”

  “You are and I can’t believe I never asked where you were staying.” She took his face between her hands, kissed him but good. “You come stay here. I bet I smell way better than a bunch of cowboys.”

  “They have a big old dog, too.” Well, that wasn’t fair, really. So did Les, a dog who was probably missing him like crazy. “But I won’t argue.”

  “Good man.” Rose nodded. “This way you’ve got air conditioning.�
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  “And a lovely roommate.” He’d pay her rent. He’d been making enough with the riding.

  “With a very tiny dog.”

  “Hey, at least everyone here bathes.” He winked at her, not wanting to think on it too much more. “I’ll get my stuff today.”

  “I’ll go get you a key made.” She grinned, hugged him a little. “I have to take the fuzzball to get groomed and get my hair cut.”

  “I can go food shopping if you want.” He would pick up some guy snacks. “Just make me a list.”

  “We could go together, if you want, this afternoon…”

  “Sure, honey. I can get my stuff, you can do hair, and we can meet back here.” He grinned, loving the idea of doing something so simple and domestic with her.

  “Sounds perfect.” She kissed him. “After a shower. We smell like we’ve been naughty, you and me.”

  “I like it.” He could see why she wouldn’t want to go in public like that. “Come on, honey. We’ll scrub.”

  She stood, and as he grabbed her ass, her laughter filled the little apartment up.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rose grabbed the two bags from her baby truck and headed to the apartment. Les was riding down in Nagcodoches, but he’d be home for supper. Back for supper. Here. Whatever.

  She knew he couldn’t stay. She knew it. He had a life up in the mountains—a good job that he loved and friends and snow and stuff —but she liked to pretend it could last a little.

  Once she’d given up on that whole ‘not dating a cowboy’ thing, anyway.

  Hell, she’d been brave. She’d gone to see him ride in Canton. She’d cried through half the rodeo, but she’d gone. And watched. He hadn’t smashed himself up or anything, but she’d still sat there with her heart half beating out of her chest. He’d taken one look at her face after and not asked her to come watch again.

  She’d apologized about a million times, but he just kissed her, told her to hush.

  Rose managed to get the door open and the groceries put down when her phone started ringing. Oh. Beau’s name popped up. “Hey, Mr. Beau! How’re you?”

  “I’m good, Miss Rose. How are you?” He sounded pretty happy, which was always good.

  “I’m good, sir. Real good. I’m fixin’ to make enchiladas.”

  “Mmm. Wish I was comin’ over.” He chuckled. “Heard you were at the rodeo last weekend.”

  “Man, who told on me? I only saw one little roper kid I recognized, besides my Les.”

  Beau Lafitte knew the whole world.

  “You remember that Brazilian boy that came to stay with Balta a few summers back? He’s on the Texas circuit now. I think he had a crush on you.”

  “Nonsense!” She pinked right on up, though, pleased. “I went to see Les ride. He made the short go, made a check. I was proud.” And scared half to death. Cheyenne?

  “Good on him. Reckon I don’t know this feller.”

  “He’s from Colorado, not full-time rodeo. He works on a ranch.” She started unpacking groceries. “Les Jacoby. You’d like him.” Had she not mentioned Les in Cheyenne?

  “I bet I would. You sure sound like you do.”

  She chuckled. “I do. I… You don’t think it’s wrong, do you? I mean, it’s been a long time since…”

  “No, ma’am. I think it’s just fine.” Beau paused a moment, and she could all but see what he called his thinking expression. “He just needs to be good enough for you, is all.”

  “He’s a good man—he dances, Beau, and he likes Presley and he tuned up my truck.” And he made love to her and made her feel like there wasn’t anyone he’d rather touch.

  “Well, I’m tickled. I am. He staying down your way?”

  “He is. He’s staying with me for a couple of weeks, till he has to go back to the mountains.”

  “Oh.” She could hear the doubt start to creep in. “You going with him? We’d sure miss you.”

  “He hasn’t asked. I… I don’t know if he wants me, full-time yet. Hell, I don’t have anything to offer, really. What would I do on a ranch? Stand around and take up space?” Oh. Oh, she hadn’t thought all this out, had she? She could work cattle, but she knew nothing about a big operation.

  “Oh, now, Rose. Don’t go gettin’ all upset on my account. I’m just a nosy old Cajun.” Beau sounded as if he was talking to his granny.

  “I just… Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” Right?

  “Well, then I’m happy. How’s that job going?” Beau talked to her for near a half hour, telling her about the barn and the dogs and all sorts of things. By the time she’d started the hamburger, she was chuckling and promising to come out to Sammy’s birthday party.

  “Well, Miss Rose, I’ll talk to you again in a few weeks, okay? I got an event to do announcing for down your way. Maybe we can have some supper.”

  “I’d love that, Beau. Honest. You just call.” She hung up the phone and went to make tea.

  It was maybe two hours later when Les came in, and she could smell him almost before she heard Presley go crazy. He’d brought Popeye’s.

  She chuckled, shook her head. Dear man. She did love him.

  Rose stopped.

  Blinked.

  Christ on a crutch.

  “Hey, honey.” Les came walking over, long legs working, signs of arena dirt still on his jeans. “I got dinner about five minutes ago, so it ought to be hot.”

  “It smells so good.” She lifted her face for a kiss. “There’s enchilada stuff for later, too. How’d you do?”

  Loved him.

  She loved him.

  “I did okay in the first round.” He grinned a little, the expression crooked and rueful.

  She patted his arm, gently just in case he was hurting. “You want a beer?”

  “I would love one.” He laid all the food out—chicken strips and potatoes, dirty rice and biscuits. And onion rings for her.

  “Mmm. Onion rings.” She grabbed two beers. “Beau said to say hi.”

  “Beau?” Les paused, a biscuit halfway to his mouth. “Lafitte? Is something wrong?”

  “With who?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, someone like that called me, it would be to be the bearer of bad news.” Les shrugged a little, cheeks pinking right up.

  “Oh, no. Beau’s my friend. He just checks in.” She winked. “He heard I was seeing someone, I think, and he’s a Cajun—he’s nosy.”

  “Ah.” Les grinned. “Well, he can rest easy. You’re in good hands.”

  “I am.” She handed him his beer. “Real good.”

  “C’mere.” His fingers closed around her wrist, and he pulled her close with the hand not holding the beer. Les took a kiss that curled her toes and left her panting.

  Oh.

  Wow.

  And also yum.

  “Appetizer.” He grinned, eyes sparkling. “Wait until you see what I do for dessert.”

  She laughed, reached up to cup his jaw. “Is there sugar involved?”

  “There might just be.” His lips grazed her fingers before Les moved away to fill a plate.

  She stole an onion ring, crunching away. God, why couldn’t they taste as good made at home?

  “Did you want the biscuit, honey?” He was on biscuit three, and they’d given him four. Someone had worked up an appetite.

  “No, love. I’m okay with the onion rings and chicken. Thank you.”

  Love.

  She loved him.

  So much for not dating a cowboy. Or falling for one. Now she was in love with one. And the smile he gave her was pretty fond in return, bright and happy. He even fed chicken to her dog.

  She sat at the table, her mind going about a million miles a minute.

  “A penny for them, honey.” Those long fingers plucked up another onion ring so he could feed it to her.

  “I…” She blinked, surprising herself by tearing up.

  “What?” That panicky expression slid across Les’ face. “What is it, Rosie?”

  “I-I’m. I�
�m in love with you. I just… I’ve never been in love with anybody but Timmy before.” Well, that was sophisticated and all…

  The panic went away faster than it had come, and Les grabbed her, swinging her around. He might have whooped a little at her too. “You love me?”

  “Uh-huh.” She held on tight, those broad shoulders steadying her like it was nothing.

  “Well, that’s good, honey. I was worried.” He kissed her, then. Hard. Happy.

  That eased that hard little knot of worry in her chest, so she kissed him back, encouraging him to just make things easy. Better. He did. They left the food, as it was on the high counter and Presley couldn’t do anything. They left it because Les carried her right into the bedroom.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he sat, keeping her right there. His hands were under her butt, supporting her, and Les just kissed her like there was no tomorrow. Like all he ever had to do in life was kiss her. Rose felt as if she was floating, flying. His eyes were open, watching her, and it made her shiver. Those blue eyes were just… They shone for her, full of emotion. She could almost hope.

  She moaned when the kisses got slower, softer, making her dizzy.

  Les started on her clothes, on her top, pulling it off. His hands were so gentle on her. Every touch made her shake a little, made her push closer.

  “Look at you.” He stroked the top of her breast, right above the line of her bra. “So pretty.”

  “Yeah? You think so?”

  “No, Rosie. I know. You’re beautiful, and you’re all mine.” He kissed her again, his hands sliding up her back. Oh God. She was. She so was.

  Rose arched back into Les’ hands, crying out as their bellies rubbed.

  Les bent to her throat, licking, biting a little. He never bruised or anything, but he let her know how much he wanted her. Then Les’ mouth moved to her breast, lips wrapping around her nipple. He sucked, pulling strongly at her, making her moan and twist, the pleasure like lightning as it zipped through her body. It was as if he knew her already, knew what would make her crazy.

  That pressure and pull felt like there was a string attaching her nipple and her center, the tug amazing.

  Les moaned for her, lips opening a moment so he could mutter something, then closing on her other nipple. Focused.