Making Room for the Rancher Page 13

  Freckles wiggled her penciled-in eyebrows. “Maybe you should see if Connor Remington wants to take you out on a date tonight.”

  “Yeah, I heard he went with Amelia to the father-daughter dance,” Finn replied, making Dahlia wish she could be anywhere else but her family’s kitchen right now. See, there was no point in her and Connor trying to sneak around. Not when everyone was already trying to push the narrative of them being a couple. Oh, sure, right now, she could still pass him off as a family friend. But it wouldn’t be long before someone said something in front of Amelia.

  “Yes.” Dahlia straightened her shoulders defensively. As soon as she exhibited any sign of doubt or remorse, her family would take that as an open invitation to pounce. Hell, they’d jump in with their opinions no matter how she responded. But it was always safest to hold her ground. “Amelia invited him and you know how insistent she can be.”

  “I also know how cautious her mother can be.” Finn tapped her chin. “How did Micah feel about all of this?”

  “Of course, he’d rather have been here himself, but he’s used to his daughter having to attend things with her uncles.”

  “Yeah, but Connor Remington isn’t exactly her uncle. Has he spent the night yet?”

  Dahlia blushed, not from embarrassment but from guilt. Because the man almost had stayed over last night. She kept her voice resolved, though, when she answered, “Of course not.”

  “Why not?” Finn asked. “I saw the way you two were checking each other out when he was here with his stallion a couple of weeks ago and stayed for dinner. Couldn’t tell the difference between you and the stall of pent-up broodmares panting after Private Peppercorn.”

  Dahlia’s eyes threatened to pop out of her head and she had to snap her mouth closed before she could respond to her sister. “That’s a real flattering comparison.”

  “It’s also an accurate one. Come on, Dia. There’s no shame in being attracted to a guy or even acting on that attraction. You’re a single mom, not a nun.”

  “I can second that,” Freckles said as she peeled the potatoes for her fresh-cut fries. “I may not be married to your uncle, but that doesn’t stop me from slipping into his bed every few nights. It ain’t a crime for a woman to enjoy a good roll—”

  “Eww, Aunt Freckles!” Finn interrupted just in time. “We really need you to stop giving us those kinds of visuals.”

  “Finally, something I can agree with my youngest daughter on,” Sherliee King said as she breezed into the kitchen in her expensive yoga clothes, not a drop of sweat threatening her professionally applied makeup. “Just because you’re traumatizing our bodies with all that unhealthy cooking of yours, Freckles, doesn’t mean you have to traumatize our minds, as well.”

  “Your mind could do with a little more dirtying if you ask me, Sherilee.” Freckles pointed her potato peeler at their mother. “Don’t forget, you and Roper stayed in the original cabin with us that first year before the big house was built. Your bedroom was right above mine and Rider’s and when that headboard would get going, it sounded like a team of Clydesdales were storming through the roof.”

  Finn made a gagging sound, but Dahlia turned to her mom in shock.

  Sherilee was the epitome of grace and class and everything one would expect from a famous politician’s wife. Plus, Roper had always been surrounded by aides and friends wanting favors. Dahlia knew her parents had loved each other, but they never seemed to have much time together unless it was a formal event when there were walls of news cameras capturing their every move. “Really? You and Dad barely used to hold hands in front of us when we were kids.”

  “That’s because they couldn’t just stop with the hands,” Freckles chuckled. “Why do you think your dad’s campaign bus was nicknamed Ol’ Faithful?”

  “Because we lived near Yellowstone?” Dahlia asked and Finn covered her ears as though she already knew the answer was going to be something they wouldn’t want to hear.

  “Yes.” Sherilee nodded earnestly at the same time Freckles shouted, “No! It was because the tiny bedroom in the back of the bus would spring to life at the same time every day. Just like clockwork.”

  Dahlia’s jaw dropped in amazement. And slight aversion at the sullying of her childhood innocence.

  “Your father was the love of my life.” Sherilee held up her chin. “And what happened in our own private bedroom—”

  “Or in the back of the campaign bus,” Finn interjected.

  “—was nobody’s business but ours,” their mother finished, narrowing one eye in her signature stern expression as she addressed all of them.

  “See, Dia.” Finn nudged her. “Even Mom agrees. What you and Connor Remington do out at his ranch is nobody’s business but your own.”

  “Whoa.” Sherilee held up a slim manicured hand displaying the fat diamond ring she never took off. “Who said anything about Dahlia and Connor Remington?”

  “The whole town, Sherilee.” Freckles rolled her eyes. “You’ve been so focused on MJ’s arrest and Tessa getting tangled up with that agent, you haven’t been paying attention to the latest romance brewing over at Big Millie’s.”

  “I knew that saloon was gonna be the death of me.” Sherilee opened the door of the hulking stainless-steel refrigerator. “Freckles, what have you got to eat in here?”

  Uh-oh. Sherilee King was truly stressed if she was looking for her sister-in-law’s calorie-filled cooking.

  Dahlia braced her hand on the marble counter. “Actually, you guys, Connor has only been to the bar once—and we weren’t even open at the time. So you can’t blame my business. If anything, you can blame Amelia. She’s the one who keeps me running into him.”

  “Amelia likes him that much?” Sherilee said around a mouthful of bacon Freckles had already precooked and hidden under a plate of foil for the burger bar. “Why didn’t you say so? She’s usually a pretty good judge of character, you know.”

  “She’s five, Mom,” Dahlia said, thinking this was another aftershock of the earlier confusion that had rattled her world. “She collects stray animals like other kids her age collect Pokémon cards.”

  “Yeah, but she has a second sense about these things. Your dad was the same way. He could read people.”

  “Can we go look at the ponies?” Amelia ran into the kitchen just then. Jack and Jordan, her two older cousins, followed behind her.

  “Yes,” Finn said to her niece. “But give your mom a kiss goodbye. She has to go see a man about a horse.”

  “Like a real horse?” Amelia asked with hopeful eyes.

  “No, Finn is using one of her funny expressions again. Now, be good for Aunt Freckles and Gan Gan. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  As Dahlia drove down the Twin Kings driveway leading to the highway, she couldn’t stop thinking about Connor or the fact that both her mom and Finn seemed to be fine with the relationship. It wasn’t that she needed her family’s permission, or even their approval, to get involved with a man. In fact, the King women were very seldom in agreement on anything, and she couldn’t help but think this was some elaborate plan of using reverse psychology to steer her in a different direction.

  It wouldn’t be the first time.

  As she approached the turnoff for the Rocking D, a spike of rebelliousness caused her to jerk the steering wheel to the left. Like everyone else in her family, Dahlia had nothing to be ashamed of. She was tired of fighting this attraction between her and Connor. They needed to address it and deal with it once and for all.

  She would simply stop by his ranch and explain that their relationship couldn’t really go anywhere. Except, when she pulled into his driveway, she saw him sitting tall in his saddle as he rode Peppercorn along the fence line. He gave her a wave and then kicked his legs in the stirrups and set his horse on a furious pace, as though he was racing her back to the stables.

  Dahlia wa
s so impressed with his riding ability she pushed her foot down harder on the accelerator of her truck to match his pace so she could keep him in her sight. In fact, even after she parked, Dahlia was struck with a consuming need to continue watching Connor work with his horse that she told him, “Go ahead and finish up with him. I can hang out here with Goatee.”

  Connor removed Peppercorn’s saddle and checked the horse’s legs and hooves for injuries as the stallion drank from the water trough. As anxious as Dahlia was to talk with the man, she appreciated the fact that he took his time caring for his horse.

  Dahlia sat beside Goatee on the porch steps, who was also breathing heavily as they both studied Connor. Of course, the dog had a good excuse for his panting. He’d just run like crazy to keep up with his owner.

  Gobster, on the other hand, seemed to be the only living species on the ranch who wasn’t staring adoringly at the man. In fact, the turkey ignored all of them as he roosted in his tree, poking his beak into a branch as he searched for bug snacks.

  “I need to be more like that feathery one over there,” she said absently to the dog as she scratched the wiry white hair between its ears. “He gets what he wants and then does his own thing. What do you think, Goatee? If I sleep with Connor once and for all, I should be able to get him out of my system, right?”

  Instead of talking her out of the idea, the animal’s response was to lower its furry chin onto its paws. But it didn’t matter what Dahlia told the dog or told herself after Connor walked the horse into the stables and then emerged a few minutes later. His hat was gone and he was bare from the waist up, shooting a spiral of heat directly to her core. She would’ve gulped but her mouth had immediately gone dry.

  His jeans hung low along his hips and his wet hair was dripping water onto the muscular ridges of his shoulders and chest. “Hope you don’t mind, but I needed to wash some of the dust off me and I just got that old sink in the stables working.”

  Yep. Dahlia was totally going to sleep with him. She’d just have to deal with the what-ifs later.

  * * *

  Connor had braved colder water than what came out of the porcelain chipped utility sink inside the stables. But he’d needed some cooling down if he was going to have a civilized conversation with Dahlia, especially after the way she’d been studying him from the porch steps for the past ten minutes.

  The woman had the ability to observe everything, without letting on that she was even paying attention. Like she was multitasking in her brain and filing everything away for later. She was usually very casual in her assessments, but she rarely missed anything. So when she directed the full scope of her attention on him, it was piercing.

  His plan had been to wash up out here and then go inside the house to grab a clean shirt. Yet when she rose from the steps, her bottom lip clenched between her straight white teeth, Connor was pretty sure he felt the remaining droplets of water on his skin evaporate from the heat of her stare.

  He opened his mouth to ask if she wanted to go inside, but before he could get the words out her lips were on his. Unlike their past two kisses, which were more leisurely and exploratory, this coupling of their mouths was frantic, intense. He backed her up the stairs and her arms clung to his neck as he felt around behind her for the front door.

  Connor had won medals and commendations for his situational awareness, but he couldn’t say how they’d gotten from the entryway to the bedroom. One minute he was unbuttoning her shirt and the next she was arching on the bed below him, her tight budded nipple in his mouth. He needed to slow down, to savor every second of having Dahlia in his arms, but all he could hear were her breathy moans encouraging him to go faster.

  At least it was the only thing he could hear until the excited bark came from the furry bundle of energy who’d just jumped onto the bed with them.

  “Sorry,” Connor sighed.

  Dahlia chuckled, the sound raspy. “He thinks its playtime.”

  “Not for you, though, boy,” he told Goatee before scooping the dog off the quilt. “Let me take him to the other room. I’ll be right back.”

  He hoped Dahlia didn’t change her mind in the time it took him to find a long-lasting rawhide bone for the dog and then stop by his bathroom to get a pack of condoms out of the medicine cabinet. When he returned to the room, though, she’d pulled back the sheets and was propped up with her elbows behind her, wearing nothing but a pair of blue lacy panties and an inviting smile.

  His heart stopped in its tracks, then resumed pounding at an uncontrollable pace.

  Standing beside the bed, he began to unbutton his jeans, but her fingers stopped him. “Let me do that.”

  Despite the need vibrating through him, he held himself perfectly still as her fingers skimmed the sensitive skin below his fly. When his arousal sprang free, he closed his eyes and groaned. She took the condom from his palm and rolled it onto his hardened length, while he returned the favor, sliding the soft fabric of her panties downward and over her hips.

  Yesterday, he’d told her that he wanted her to be sure about them before they took their relationship to this level. So far, her body’s response to his indicated that she was more than sure. But he still needed to hear the words. As he settled himself between her thighs, he said, “There’s no going back after this.”

  Her hands cupped his face as she pulled him closer. “Good,” she replied before capturing his mouth with her own.

  He entered her swiftly and she gasped. Holding the rest of himself completely still, he pulled back his head and asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. I just... It’s been a long time and I don’t remember it feeling this good. This right. Please, Connor...don’t stop.”

  His heart thumped behind his rib cage as he resolved to make each sensation last for her. He retreated slightly before filling her again, yet with each thrust her hips arched to meet him. As her breathing hitched higher, he felt himself growing closer to his own climax. Next time he would make it last for both of them, but for now he needed to take care of her needs first. He reached between their interlocked bodies and used his thumb to brush against the sensitive bud centered just above her entrance.

  It only took a few strokes before Dahlia threw back her head and called his name, her constricting muscles pulling him deeper inside her. She was still shuddering under him when Connor shouted with his own release.

  * * *

  The sun was barely rising when Dahlia heard the unmistakable gobble from outside the window. Stretching with a soreness and contentedness she hadn’t expected, she rolled over in the bed to find Connor sitting up with just the sheet covering him from the waist down.

  He was watching her intently, but she couldn’t muster up so much as a single blush. Instead, she smiled deeply, feeling the happiness all the way to her toes, which had been properly curled a couple of times throughout the night. “I thought only roosters crowed at the crack of dawn.”

  “Gobster already thinks he’s part peacock and part garbage disposal. So why not add alarm clock to his list of charming qualities?”

  “I noticed Goatee won’t go near him. Maybe Gobster needs a turkey friend to keep him company?”

  “Tell that to the poor bird who’d be stuck in the cage with him. He’d probably peck it to death.”

  She smiled, then tucked her body against his side. His fingers brushed her hair away from her face and she thought she could certainly get used to waking up like this. Turkey noises and all.

  She let her own fingers trail along the light dusting of copper-colored hair highlighting Connor’s chest, following the curls as they narrowed across his abdomen and then lower. Lifting her face to his, she teased, “I hope you don’t mind that I can’t seem to get enough of you.”

  His arm flexed around her as he brought her closer. “Last night, when we were making love, you made a comment about it being a long time for you.”

 
; Now, Dahlia did blush. But only slightly. She remembered adding on the part about never feeling this way before, but thankfully Connor hadn’t been arrogant enough to gloat over that bit. “It has.”

  “Am I the first guy you’ve dated since your ex-husband?”

  Would this be considered dating? She and Connor had never really gone out together just the two of them. Also, was this a conversation she should sit up for? It felt better to talk about something like this while she wasn’t making eye contact.

  She laid her head on his shoulder and let out a deep breath. “Actually, there was a guy named Seth, one of Micah’s band mates at the time. It was after we split up, and it only lasted for a few weeks.”

  “Why?”

  “When the rest of the band moved to Nashville, Seth said that he was staying behind to help me with Big Millie’s. Amelia was barely walking and I’d taken on this huge project partly because I loved the idea of owning and redecorating a historic saloon, and partly because I needed to prove to myself that I had my own life besides being Roper King’s daughter or Finn King’s twin sister or Micah Deacon’s wife or Amelia’s mom.”

  Connor didn’t reply, but his hand continued a soothing circular pattern, tracing pleasantly along her lower spine.

  “Seth would meet with the contractors if I was busy with Amelia, and it wasn’t long before he started trying to make decisions that weren’t his to make. And throwing around my family’s name to build up his own list of people who would owe him favors. Turns out Micah had kicked him out of the band at the airport. He hadn’t told me because he knew I had enough to worry about without adding his own career drama to the mix. When he found out Seth was still in Teton Ridge trying to cash in on his ex-wife’s name, Micah wanted to kick his ass.”