So Tough to Tame Page 3

  “You’ll find something, Walker. People like your face.”

  “Ha. That they do.” People did like his face, thank God. It was one of the few things he had going for him. Otherwise, he was just another cowboy among thousands. A good one, granted. Good with his hands. Good with horses. Willing to endure heat and cold and snow and rain, not to mention low pay and physically punishing work for fifty years, give or take a dozen.

  But people liked his face, so he’d been able to get jobs at dude ranches, which offered work that paid a little more and hurt a little less, as long as you didn’t mind working with tourists. He didn’t. But this damn sure wasn’t dude ranch season.

  He tipped his hat. “I’ll see you later, Jenny. Have a good day, Miss Rayleen.”

  Rayleen shooed him away without looking up.

  She’d get over it, and Charlie had a place to stay. His good deed was done, and he was wrapped up in his own troubles before he even stepped outside.

  Finding work wasn’t really a problem. He’d already gotten plenty of jobs at an old dude ranch he’d worked for years before, and they’d likely hire him on permanently in the spring. He had enough savings to get through winter. Things should be fine.

  But if stories were circulating about him and the boss’s wife... Shit. He’d really fucked up. Every boss had a wife. And none of them wanted their women sleeping with the hired hands.

  Still, something more than that was tugging at his brain. Maybe—

  His thoughts were sliced in two when he glanced up and saw a woman struggling to get a big round table up the front steps of the Stud Farm.

  “Charlie?” he called, rushing forward to take the table from her hands.

  She looked up, her brown hair sliding over her shoulders as she turned. Her light gray eyes went wide. “Oh, my God! Walker, is that you behind that beard?”

  “It’s me,” he said with a grin that widened the longer he looked down at her. She was still damn cute. Actually, she’d gone from cute to pretty at some point in the past ten years. “It’s good to see you, Charlie. Can I take this somewhere for you?” He lifted the table a few inches.

  She shot his hands a look of irritation. “I can’t believe you can just tote that thing around like it’s nothing. I had to roll it like a barrel just to get it across the lawn.”

  “I see that.” He plucked a few clumps of dirt and grass off the table and lifted it up to his shoulder. “Come on. I’ll take it upstairs.”

  “Thanks.”

  “After you,” he insisted. She held the door open for him, then started up the stairs to the landing above.

  Walker followed right behind, noticing that she was obviously still an athlete. Still slim and tight and strong. But not quite as slim as she’d been in high school. No, now there were hips. And an ass. And black leather boots that hugged her calves. And most of all, there were those awesome skinny jeans showing off all the changes.

  Yeah, Charlie was obviously just as nice as she’d always been. But maybe sweeter than ever before.

  He glanced at his apartment door as he passed.

  She was certainly much closer.

  Shit. Maybe this good deed wouldn’t go unpunished, after all.

  * * *

  “SWEET MOTHER OF everything hot,” Charlie muttered under her breath as she watched Walker Pearce’s biceps flex and bunch as he maneuvered her pine table through the doorway of her apartment. He wore a beat-up gray T-shirt with a Stetson logo on it, tight jeans, ancient boots and a black cowboy hat that threw a shadow over his blue eyes. But that was fine. She didn’t need to see his smiling eyes right now. She was too busy taking in his body.

  His shoulders hadn’t been that wide in high school. His arms hadn’t been so thick. And he hadn’t been quite that tall. Jesus, he must be six-four now.

  All in all, he looked like a dangerous, forbidden, older-brother version of the Walker she’d once had a crush on. Every butterfly she’d ever felt for him swarmed back to life in an instant, only now their restless wings brushed more sensitive areas. There was no reason for her stomach to feel nervous. After all, that wasn’t the part of her body she wanted Walker to touch.

  He set the table down close to the breakfast bar in the kitchen. “Is this good?”

  “Oh, that’s definitely good.” She glanced at his left hand to be sure there was no ring. Not that she could imagine Walker married. He’d be a terrible husband. Carefree and aimless and throwing off pheromonal invitations to every ovary in town.

  She was still trying to take all of him in when his chest suddenly filled her vision and he swept her up into a hug. “How the hell are you, Charlie?”

  He squeezed her so tight the air rushed out of her lungs. When he set her back down, she inhaled nothing but the scent of him. Leather and hay and clean sky and something so deliciously spicy that her mouth watered.

  “You look good,” he said, holding her at arm’s length and giving her a once-over. “City life has been good to you.”

  She wanted to say something witty. Something sexy. But for the first time in a decade she was that high school girl again, too shy and uncertain to flirt with Walker Pearce. “Thanks.”

  “What else can I do for you, darlin’? You got a bed?”

  “What?” Her cheeks flamed as if her body didn’t want him to know what she’d been thinking. Stupid, brainless body. “A bed?” Yes, please, a bed!

  “Surely you didn’t haul a mattress up by yourself?”

  “Oh, a bed!” She laughed nervously while her brain screamed for this retro Charlie to get her shit together. You are not a sixteen-year-old virgin. You are an experienced woman who likes sex. Lots of sex.

  Retro Charlie won out with a tiny giggle. “Thanks, Walker. It’s down in the rental truck. I’ll help.”

  “Nah, you stay here and start unpacking those boxes. I’ll have your bed set up in no time.”

  This was her chance. Crack a joke about hanging around after to test it out. Not that she’d jump into bed with him within minutes of their reunion, but just to let him know it might be a possibility. Just to plant the seed. But no. In the end, she only watched his ass as he walked away. It was a good ass. Strong. Muscular.

  Ah. This was just like high school. Always watching him from afar even when he was so close.

  “Shit,” she muttered, kicking the box closest to her foot. When she heard the rattle of dishes, she winced and told herself to cut it out. This wasn’t high school, and she’d lived a lot since then. Walker Pearce was no longer too much man for her. And hell, if he was, that’d be her dream come true. A big ol’ cowboy to ride into the sunset. But only into the sunset. Best to keep the mornings a clean slate, especially with a roving boy like Walker.

  Cheered by the thought, Charlie picked up the box she’d kicked and hauled it onto the kitchen counter. When she pried open the flaps and saw the familiar bright yellow of her dinner plates, a weight lifted from her shoulders as if a vulture had just left its vigil. She’d barely moved in and this place already felt more like home than the resort had after three weeks.

  She’d been thrilled with the gorgeous studio apartment set aside for her. It wasn’t normal procedure, but Charlie hadn’t questioned her good luck. She’d just figured that being friends with Dawn, the executive manager of the resort and the wife of the owner, had come with its own perks. Dawn had explained that they wanted a permanent security presence at the resort and left it at that.

  The offer had been a relief. Now Charlie realized that beautiful apartment had been nothing more than a cage.

  Charlie unwrapped her yellow plates and put them precisely in the middle of the lowest shelf next to the stove. “Perfect.” When her brain reminded her she had to be back at the resort by 8:00 a.m., she frowned and dug back into the box. It was just a job.

  At the sound of boots on the stairs, she looked up to see Walker heading toward her door, her bed frame under one arm and her headboard slung over his other shoulder. He eased his haul through her doo
rway, then headed for the bedroom.

  Her own personal mover.

  She followed him in to watch as he propped the slatted wood headboard against the wall, and then she reached to help with the first part of the frame as he fitted it to the wood. “You don’t have to do this, Walker. I can take care of the bed.”

  “You’ve been living in Nevada too long if you think a nice Wyoming boy is going to let a woman haul furniture on her own.”

  She grinned. “I guess you’re right. I’ll have to get used to Wyoming again. More chivalry, less gambling and legalized prostitution.”

  “There are subtle differences, but they’re there if you look.”

  “Thanks for the advice. I’ll put away my poker chips and platform heels and try to fit in.”

  He winked as he crossed to the other side of the bed and fit a new frame piece onto that side. “There’s no need for anything that drastic, darlin’. Just be yourself. Let it all hang out.”

  She snorted at his ridiculous flirting, just as she always had. There was no way to take it seriously. He flirted with everyone, young and old. She’d always been smart enough to see that. But she was finally ready to flirt back.

  “You have any beer in the fridge next door, Walker? There’s no need for this to be all work and no fun.”

  He didn’t seem to notice her inviting smile. “Oh, I’ve always got beer, but I’ve got to head up toward Yellowstone for a couple of hours. I’ll grab a couple bottles for you if you want, though.”

  “No, I’m good. If you need to get going, you should go. I’m fine.”

  “Girl, didn’t you hear what I said about us nice Wyoming boys? I’ll have the rest of your bed up here in five minutes.”

  Girl. Just like in high school. Charlie drew herself up, a tingle of anticipation zinging down her spine and tightening her nipples. She wasn’t a girl anymore. And she wasn’t his pal or his tutor or his favorite tomboy track star. He couldn’t see that yet, but he would.

  She’d always liked a challenge. “Then go get my bed, Wyoming boy. I’ll buy you a beer tonight at the Crooked R if I see you around.”

  “That’s a deal.” He stepped past her, then surprised her by reaching out to ruffle her hair as he passed.

  He ruffled her hair.

  Unbelievable. That decided it. This boy was going down. Hard. And frequently, if she had anything to say about it. She was finally going to get a taste of Walker Pearce. And from what she’d heard, he’d taste damn good.

  She hadn’t gotten laid in months, and working at a resort that hadn’t even opened yet hadn’t exposed her to many opportunities. But opportunity had knocked now. And it lived right next door.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THERE’D BEEN NO room for Walker at the inn. Literally. All the bunks at the Blue Sleigh Inn and Ranch were full for the winter, which wasn’t much of a surprise. Most of the cowboys who worked there during the summer stayed on, and there wasn’t nearly as much work during the winter. But he’d been invited to stop by again in the spring, for what that was worth.

  Muttering a curse, he stepped out of his truck into the icy night. The sun had set two hours ago, and he was already dead tired, stressed from dodging migrating elk on the highway and trying too hard to read the face of that ranch manager. She’d seemed sincere. She hadn’t sneered at him. She hadn’t flirted, either, or dropped any hints about rumors she’d heard. He was being paranoid, probably, thinking the word was out that he couldn’t be trusted.

  At least tonight he was too damn tired to lie in bed worrying about it. He wasn’t cut out for this crap. His life was simple. He took care of horses. He taught folks how to ride. He roped and herded and branded cattle. It wasn’t that hard and he wasn’t that deep. Anxiety was for city folks and people a lot smarter than he was. He just wanted to work and hang with friends and occasionally have a little fun with a hot woman. Clearly, he should’ve been more careful about mixing all those up at the same time.

  His legs felt weighted with lead as he trudged up the front steps of the Stud Farm. He grunted in surprise when the door opened before he could reach for it.

  “Hey, Walker!” Merry Kade called as she bounced outside.

  He automatically tipped his hat and grabbed the door to hold it open for her. “Evening, Merry.”

  “Your friend is so much fun!”

  “My friend?”

  She bounced her hip against his leg as she passed. “Charlie, silly. She’s hilarious. You’re coming over, right?”

  He glanced over to the saloon, feeling not the least bit tempted. “No, I’m beat. I’ll catch up another time.”

  Merry spun around at the bottom of the steps. “No, you have to come, Walker! Just for a little while. Charlie said to think of it as her homecoming party. Look, she made me go put on my heels.” Merry lifted her foot and angled it so he could see the black heels she wore.

  “I’d better not,” he said with a wink. “I left my last pair of heels at the ranch anyway.”

  Merry snorted with laughter, but she didn’t give up. “Even Rayleen’s having fun.”

  That made him pause. And then Merry pushed the button that was hardest for him to ignore.

  “Come on, Walker. I can barely walk in these things. Be a gentleman and let me hold your arm.”

  Well, shit. He wouldn’t say no to that, and she knew it. Her smile tipped into triumph. Walker gave in with a sigh. “Fine, I’ll walk you over to the saloon, and then I’m leaving.”

  “We’ll see.”

  She took his arm even though he highly suspected she didn’t need any help. Then again, he hadn’t often seen Merry in heels. She was more a jeans and Converse kind of girl. “Where’s Shane? I like it when he gets all riled up about you.”

  She grinned. “Me, too. But I don’t think he’s home yet.”

  “Aw, that’s too bad. I was going to dance you around the saloon porch a little, just to rub it in.”

  “I don’t dance in heels. I just sit on a bar stool and look stunning.”

  “Same as without heels, then?”

  She elbowed him and snorted. “You’re such a dork.”

  This was what he loved about Merry. No one ever called him a dork. And he was damn sure no one had ever called Shane Harcourt a dork, either, but Walker had heard Merry say the same to him. No wonder Shane was hooked. Merry was sweet and smart as hell. Unfortunately, that kind of woman didn’t go for Walker. Not for the long term anyway.

  He escorted Merry up the steps to the saloon porch, then hesitated at the door. He normally loved a good night out, but he wasn’t in the mood quite as often lately.

  Merry tugged him forward. “You can drop me off at the bar.”

  “In case you think I don’t know I’m being played, I know I’m being played,” he muttered, but he opened the door and waved her in.

  Country music thumped through the air, and his heart immediately reset itself to the rhythm. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he could stay for a few minutes to be polite. He let Merry lead him toward the bar. She’d apparently dropped any pretense that she needed a steady arm to support her, but Walker couldn’t resent it. He’d spotted a hot female ass in tight jeans and Merry was taking him straight toward it.

  “Look who I found!” she called to the crowd at the bar.

  Several faces turned toward him, but Walker was busy raising his eyes up the woman’s spine and over long brown hair to see Charlie smiling over her shoulder at him. He blinked, surprised yet again that she was all grown-up and working a gorgeous ass. His eyes slipped down again, over her long, long legs to the bright red spike heels she wore. Damn.

  “Hey, Walker,” she purred when he drew near.

  Wait, he thought as he leaned down to return her hug. Charlie Allington purring? He must’ve heard that wrong.

  “You ready for that payment I promised?” Her breath whispered over his ear, the words sneaking inside him.

  He pulled back quickly. “A beer, right?”

  “Sure, unless
you want a pomegranate martini.” She pointed at the drink she held, which was such a bright red the reflection tinged the underside of her chin pink.

  “You think I won’t drink a pomegranate martini?” He lifted his chin toward Jenny and gestured to Charlie’s drink. “I’ll take one of these,” he called.

  Jenny rolled her eyes, but she grabbed the martini shaker.

  Charlie looked up at his hat, then down to his boots, but she stayed silent until he reached over to the bar and snagged the drink.

  “Thanks,” he said, raising the glass toward her before he took a sip. “Perfect.”

  “You’re pretty damn adorable,” she said. “A big old cowboy drinking a pretty little cocktail.”

  “Yeah?” He leaned a little closer out of flirtatious habit.

  “Yeah. Those rough fingers curved around that delicate glass? It’s...promising.”

  His blood heated by a few degrees. She liked seeing his fingers on something delicate, did she? She’d moved closer, too, and he could smell her hair. He could also see straight down the front of her red shirt, and the rise of her breasts were faint curves that ended at a silky black bra. “You look awfully promising yourself, Charlie.”

  The shape of her name in his mouth stopped the rush of his blood. He blinked and leaned back a little, reminding himself that this was his pal Charlie, but she just clinked her glass against his and smiled. “Thank you,” she murmured softly before turning toward the man who’d appeared at her side.

  “Hey, Nate!” she gushed before hugging her cousin.

  Walker took the chance to enjoy the sight of her from a new angle. The long line of her side curving out to that perfect ass, then those ridiculous legs. He’d noticed those even in high school. How could he not? She’d been one of the tallest girls in school. Still about six inches shorter than him, but tonight the heels added a few more. Hell, he could kiss her for hours without getting a crick in his neck. He could even bend her over a table and—

  His eyes skittered away from her ass as if they were horrified at where his imagination had gone. This was Charlie. Way too smart to date a guy like Walker, and way too sweet to be used to scratch an itch. But damn, it’d been easier to be friends with her before she’d grown into heels. And flirting. And shiny lip gloss that made her mouth look full and plump and—