Cowboy Up (Coming Home #3)

“You scared me,” I whisper, shaking my head in the smallest movements. So much for being a big brave girl. I was a fool to think I could handle a conversation of this magnitude without feeling a little trepidation.


“I noticed that, darlin’.”

“You don’t sound upset about it.” I huff out a breath and cross my arms over my chest. Clayton’s eyes move down and I follow his gaze to see that my flowy tank is giving him one heck of a show, the shirt’s front now pulled low with my arms being crossed. The tops of my breasts and some of my white lace bra peek out of the wide scoop neck. I roll my eyes when he still doesn’t look away, uncrossing my arms and pulling the material up. “A gentleman wouldn’t have looked, Clayton.”

“Sweetness, when it comes to you there isn’t anything gentlemanly about the thoughts that constantly keep me company.”

“Well. . .” I trail off, not having a good retort. “I didn’t even show you much. You’d think I didn’t keep you satisfied the way you’re reactin’ to a small glimpse of my boobs. Next time I’m tryin’ to throw a fit, you could at least not be all swoon-worthy and distractin’.”

“Linney, all it would take for me to react and be ready to feel your heat around my cock is you walking into a room. You don’t’ need to give me a tease. But the lace was a bonus. . . .”

“You’re incorrigible.” I sigh with a smile, turning off my car and getting to my feet between the car and Clayton’s body when he doesn’t move to give me more space.

His hands come up, fingers brushing against my cheeks. I rest mine at his waist and tip my head up to study my dark cowboy as he gazes me. His eyes devour me, his hands not idle as he drags his fingertips down the column of my neck and down my bare arms until he reaches my elbows. Then he repeats his trail back up until he’s holding me with his palms right under my jaw. He pushes his fingers lightly into my hair as best as he can with it up in a ponytail, and his thumbs rub against my cheeks with slow glides that awaken every inch of me.

“Hey,” he whispers in a bold tone that makes his already deep voice sound a few degrees deeper. Velvet and sandpaper.

“Hey,” I parrot back, sounding like I just ran a marathon. The way he’s looking at me right now, this is something I’ve never seen from him. This, right here, is my dark cowboy giving me everything silently. Himself, his love, our future. All of it is shining bright down on us. The warm buzz that travels over my skin has nothing to do with the summer Texas sun high in the sky.

My fingers flex, doing nothing more than move against his stone-like muscles, as I make no attempt to gain purchase on his skin. My feet shuffle forward until I feel the toes of his cowboy boots. My hands go behind his back as I press my body against his and tip my head up. His back flexes under my touch, but other than that, he doesn’t move an inch. Just gazes down at me, holding me gently.

“I got a lot I want to say about your call earlier, Caroline,” he tells me softly. “You’ve got my head all twisted up, though, and I can’t figure out if now is the time to say even half of the shit that’s rollin’ around without freakin’ you out. But you brought it up, and now I don’t think I can sit on it any longer.”

The rapid tattoo of my heart has my breathing speeding up, but with his bright green eyes showing me nothing but the enormity of his love, I feel it—the fearlessness that only Clayton brings out in me.

“It’s time,” I rush without hesitation.

His face gets soft and he bends slightly to press his lips lightly against mine. He doesn’t deepen the kiss, just gives me a brief peck before lifting his head a degree as he keeps his eyes locked on mine. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” My breathy affirmation is met with his eyes flashing with pleasure, the corners of his mouth tipping up, and the laugh lines around his eyes coming out. He adjusts his hold, his hands falling down a little until his palms are resting against either side of my neck.

“You . . . God, Linney,” he drones, shaking his head but still smiling. “First, you’re okay?”

Knowing instantly he’s referring to the fact that I had words with his ex, I nod. “I’m fine, honey.”

“When I got word that Jess was at the PieHole throwin’ her shit around, it wasn’t pretty. I almost took off Drew’s head when he reminded me I couldn’t do a single thing with the doc out lookin’ over the horses and two buyers out from Montana. I didn’t give one a damn about my responsibilities here when you are and will always be more important than anything else. If you hadn’t called me when you did, I woulda been there in a second, not givin’ one fuck about how much money I’d lose walkin’ away from those Montana folks.”

“I’m fine,” I stress, hoping he understands that I mean it.

“I know. I just can’t seem to help myself when it comes to you, darlin’. The thought of you feelin’ anything other than happiness and love isn’t somethin’ I enjoy too much.”

I tighten my arms around his body and lean up on my toes to attempt to get closer than our height differences allow, wanting him to really see me clearly.

“Clayton Davis, you’ve given me nothin’ but happiness for over four months now, and I have no doubt you’ll continue to do so for a long while, but there’ll be times that even you can’t control everything. Life might toss us some ugly. But I’m ready to take it on now if it does. Trust that I’m not goin’ to break just because some of that ugly tries to creep around us.”

“Trustin’ you has nothin’ to do with me wantin’ to protect you and keep you safe from all of that, Linney.”

“And that, honey, is what makes me feel like I’m strong enough to take on anything. Knowin’ that you care that much, that you’ll be there to keep me from trippin’, gives me the confidence to finally live free of fear and worry. There isn’t a dadgum thing on this green earth that has the power to douse that. Not anymore.”

“You want the rest?” he asks after holding my gaze for a few minutes, the weight of my words rolling over us.

I nod, his thumbs rubbing against my jaw as I do.

He releases his hold on my neck, drags his work-roughened hands down my skin until he’s got my wrists in his hold, and unwraps my arms from around his body. Silently, he places my palms on his shoulders and leans down. The brim of his hat drags over the top of my head while he continues to get so close I can feel the heat of his lips against mine.

“Hold on,” he rasps, confusing me.

When he grabs me at the back of my thighs and lifts, I squeal out in shock before wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my chest into his face in order to keep my balance. Miraculously, I manage to stop acting like a weirdo long enough to grab his hat as it’s knocked off with the force of my freak-out. Keeping my legs tight, I lift my chest out of his face and release the arm holding his hat to place it back on his head. When the hat blocks my view, I pull it back off and plop it on my own head. Mindlessly, I use my free hand to run my fingers through his thick, unruly hair. His body moves as he laughs softly and my hand freezes in its third pass.