Taking the Bull by the Horns, a Cascade Texas novella (6 page)

And yes, she was being ridiculous.

A cheer went up as the next bareback rider made it to eight seconds, and the event was over.

“Next up, steer wrestling,” the announcer drawled.

Across the arena, Taylor swung into the saddle. Lavender’s mouth went dry and she took a quick sip of beer.

But he wasn’t first. A man twice Taylor’s size, who dwarfed his poor horse, was the first out of the chute, and dropped over the steer with a death grip on the short horns. Using his weight and strength, he nearly twisted the poor animal’s head off before dropping him to the dirt.

4.4 seconds from the start of the ride to the steer’s feet leaving the ground. Wow, that was fast. And he was big. The announcer kept saying so. How much of an advantage was that over Taylor?

Taylor wasn’t next, either. Another big guy, but the steer got away from him. He never even got out of the saddle.

Taylor still wasn’t next. Lavender shifted on the hard seat. This next guy was faster than the first, dropping out of his saddle and onto the steer in 3.8 seconds.

And then Angelina stepped into the chute.

“Next up is newcomer to the sport, Taylor Craig,” drawled the announcer. “He’s not a very big fella. These steer outweigh him three to one. He hasn’t finished in the money yet this year. Maybe this week is his chance.”

Taylor pressed his hat more firmly onto his head, took a firmer grip on Angelina’s reins, tensed his shoulders, and the chute sprung open. Lavender only got to admire him astride the galloping mare for a moment before he slid off the other side. Angelina kept going and Taylor dug his heels into the dirt, legs spread as he leaned into the steer, the muscles in his arms standing out as he twisted and the animal fell beneath him.

He got up with a satisfied nod when he heard his time of 4.2 seconds and went to retrieve his hat, which had flown off the moment Angelina left the chute. He dusted it against his leg, put it back on and lifted his head to look straight at her. He gave her a slow smile, touched his hat and strode out of the arena.

Lavender watched the other contestants in the event with a sense of pride in Taylor, as nearly all fell short of his time, and he came in third place. She sought him along the opposite side of the corral, wanting to watch him as the standings were announced, but she didn’t see him. Still, she whooped, knowing she drew attention but not caring.

Well, not much.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the high school teacher approaching. She grumbled under her breath, not wanting to make conversation.

“Hey.”

Taylor swung up on the seat beside her, eyes alight, holding his hat in one hand between his parted knees. Sweat dampened his hair and shirt, and he smelled like horse and hay and Taylor.

“Hey.” Giddiness bubbled up in her. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” He glanced around. “Got a kiss for the third place winner?”

She dipped her head for a minute. Why did she have to be such a wimp around him? So she lifted her face, scooped her fingers through his hair and kissed him softly, her lips parted over his, enough to draw in his surprised breath. She broke the kiss and smiled into his eyes.

“Congratulations.” She dropped her hand away from where she played with the ends of his hair.

Just when she would pull back, he threaded his fingers through her hair. “I’ve been wanting to smell you all day. Looks nice, by the way.”

“Thanks.” She blushed. “What do you mean you’ve been wanting to smell me?”

He bent his head close to her shoulder and breathed in deep. “You smell good. Roses, something else, I don’t know. Like you.”

She realized then that they were nearly nuzzling each other in public. Their knees touched, their heads were bent together.

“You want to come say hi to Angelina?”

She glanced at the arena where the team ropers were competing. Her nerves buzzed.

“Yeah. I would.”

He folded his hand around hers and she followed him down the steps, under the seats and toward the stables. Angelina was in her stall. Taylor opened it quickly, one handed, and pulled Lavender inside.

Angelina tossed her head and backed away when Taylor turned Lavender and pinned her against the inside of the stall, braced his arms on either side of her and lowered his mouth to hers, warm and slick. The hunger rose fast, from anticipation to lust in a microsecond and she angled her head to bring him deeper. He made a sound of approval and eased closer, his hips pressed to hers, easing her thighs apart.

His scent surrounded her, his taste filled her, his body, so lean and strong, pinned her. Again and again she saw the flex of his muscles as he threw that steer to the ground. She wound her arms around his neck to comb through his hair and still he didn’t touch her. She thought about sliding her hands down his arms and bringing his hands to her body, but realized he was savoring her, taking his time, as if they had some.

So she would do the same, enjoy every minute, every touch, every sensation he awakened in her.

No telling how much time had passed before he eased away, his breathing heavy, eyes a little glassy. She wanted to drag him back but stopped.

“You want to get something to eat?” he asked.

And ruin the perfectly good taste of Taylor in her mouth? Not likely. Ooh, a Taylor diet. Now that held appeal. With a shock, she remembered she was supposed to meet Samantha for a dance lesson. What had she been thinking, an hour away from Taylor? Of course, she hadn’t known they’d be making out in his horse’s stall.

“I can’t. I have to be somewhere.”

Disappointment dimmed his grin. “Gertrude?”

“Actually, no. Something else.” With every ounce of will she had, she eased toward the stall door, wondering just how debauched she looked. “Will you be at the Longhorn later?”

Surprise lifted his eyebrows. “Will you? I got the impression you didn’t really like it there.”

“I’ll make an exception for you.” She unhooked the latch on the door. “And I’ll even let you lead.”

Chapter Six

Taylor saw her the minute she walked into the Longhorn Saloon, and he hadn’t been watching. He’d been playing pool with his hazer, Alex Adams, and he swore he smelled Lavender. She looked different than she had the first night he’d seen her. Apart from the fitted top that showed off her gorgeous curves, ones he’d used every bit of control not to caress earlier today, he couldn’t say what was different. The stylish haircut, all that pretty blonde hair in layers, wasn’t the difference, or the dramatic way she’d made up her eyes. Tonight there was a glow, a playfulness about her, which he’d seen in her that first day with her class. The thing that had drawn him to her in the first place.

“Taylor, your shot,” Alex said.

Taylor grunted and handed over his cue, his focus on the woman by the door.

She turned just then, and that smile... Well, it would be a shame to wipe that smile from that mouth, but he needed to claim her, needed to taste her. Had it only been a couple of hours since he’d seen her?

Surprise flickered in her eyes in the instant before he curved his hand around the small of her back and leaned in for a kiss, resisting the urge to linger. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks pink, when he drew back and without a word, guided her out of the poolroom and up to the bar.

Other men were looking at her, studying her, some with looks on their faces as if they’d never seen her before. Taylor edged closer, his thigh touching hers as he leaned sideways to order two bottles of beer. He turned back to her and guided her to a tall table, helped her perch on a stool. He didn’t take his hand from her, stroked her arm below the sleeve of her blouse. They hadn’t spoken since she came in, hadn’t needed to. The way she smiled at him, the promise there, gave him a buzz stronger than any beer.

A song he loved played, a song that made him want to move his feet and he straightened in invitation. Anxiety flashed across Lavender’s face as she glanced at the dance floor, and he remembered how resistant she’d been in his arms when they’d danced. She wasn’t accustomed to a song like this.

“Dance with Samantha again,” she said, nodding toward the stunning redhead he’d danced with the other night.

He took both her hands in his. “I want to dance with you.”

She looked toward the floor. “I’ve been practicing but I’m not that good. Go dance with her. I like to watch you move.”

“What every man likes to hear.” He grabbed the seat of her stool and dragged her closer, between his parted legs. “But the only woman I want in my arms tonight is you.” He lowered his chin to her shoulder and looked up into her face.

She twisted her head to meet his gaze. “You want to dance.”

“Love this song.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” He was on his feet before she could change her mind. He didn’t even wait for her to take his hand, just grabbed hers.

“I’m not even close to good,” she protested as he backed her toward the floor.

“Just relax and follow me.” He lifted his arm and twisted her wrist just a bit so that she turned under his arm. He pulled her back, flush against his body. “See? Better already.” He spread his hand over the small of her back, wanting the softness of her body against his. “Have fun.”

Her first few steps were off, her body tight with anxiety, but he pressed his fingers into her waist and she fell into step. Her eyes brightened as they moved around the floor in rhythm. One song blended into the other and Lavender tossed her head back and laughed.

He pulled her close. “I’m going to spin you now.”

Anxiety widened her eyes. “I’m not ready for that.”

“Trust me. Have fun.” And with a flex of his fingers, he pushed her away, twisting her hand in his to spin her in a circle. She stumbled a bit, but laughed and flung her hand out in a flourish before he pulled her back against him. Again she stumbled. This time, he took her in tight little circles, making her laugh more, but she kept up. He grinned at the victory he saw in her eyes.

At the next line dance, he guided her back to their table, where their beer had grown warm. He flagged down a waitress and ordered two more. Lavender’s face was flushed but her eyes were alight with happiness. The sight sent an unfamiliar warmth through him.

“Fun, right?” he asked.

“I may be addicted.”

“Lavender, hey!”

The women she’d been with the first night here approached and arranged themselves in various poses as they stood beside Lavender. He looked from them to Lavender, whose radiant expression had dimmed. Taylor gave her a teasing smile and she relaxed a bit.

“Jerri, Susan and Laurie, this is Taylor.”

“Hi, Taylor,” they said together.

“Y’all look good out there,” said the blonde who appeared to be their spokesperson. Taylor wondered a moment, given his affinity for blondes, if he’d seen her first, would he have asked her to come see him ride?

He hadn’t asked a woman to come watch him ride, not in months. But he’d asked Lavender. He wanted to be with Lavender. He reached across and to rub the tips of his fingers over the back of her hand and her eyes lit up again.

“We were good out there.” He eased back to pay the waitress and handed Lavender her bottle, letting his touch linger on her fingers. The smile she gave him was brilliant and held just a bit of laughter, as if she understood his claim.

Reluctantly he dragged his attention to her friends, aware he was being rude, not much caring. “Ladies,” he said. “Did you make it to the rodeo today?”

“Not really our thing.” Jerri leaned on the table between them, arms folded under her breasts, pushing them up.

He took a swig of beer. “Lavender didn’t think it was her thing either, but she had fun.”

“From what I saw.” She grinned at him, then turned to her friends. “It was fun, though. Taylor got third place.”

“What is it you do, Taylor?” Susan asked.

“I’m a steer wrestler.”

All four women looked at his arms.

A new song started, slow and easy and all Taylor could think about was feeling Lavender’s body up against him. He straightened. “Sorry, ladies, this is our song.” He reached across for Lavender’s hand, lifted it over Laurie’s head and guided her to the floor.

“We don’t have a song,” Lavender murmured when he pulled her close.

“Just wanted to hold you against me.”

She folded her arms around his shoulders, pressing her soft curves against his chest. “You’ve been holding me against you all night.”

“Mm, not like this.” Her body was tense, as if she expected to start two-stepping, but he linked his hands around her waist, over the small of her back. “Just sway with me.”

“This isn’t dancing. It’s foreplay.”

He grinned and moved his hands over her back. “Yep.”

She drew in a breath as he brushed his cheek along hers, his breath stirring her hair. He kissed her jaw lightly and she went tense, hopefully for a whole other reason. He kissed below her ear and she stopped moving. He chuckled against her skin and pressed his hands to her back to get her going again. When he raised his head to look at her, her eyes were dark with anticipation, her lips parted, and he couldn’t resist. He kissed her softly, dipping his tongue between those full lips briefly before lifting his head again.

“Have we got part two of this plan worked out?” she asked breathlessly.

“No rooms at the motel.”

Her mouth curved down in disappointment.

“I have an RV, but it’s a rotten bed, not long enough, not very comfortable. I want you in a real bed.”

Her eyes flashed at that, but he couldn’t identify the emotion.

Then she lowered her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t stay the night anyway. I actually didn’t think we’d be here this long.”

He grinned. “You thought I’d just sweep you out the door the minute you walked in?”

“The way you were kissing me earlier? Yeah.”

“Do you want to go?”

This time he could read the emotion in her eyes—nervousness. She tightened her arms about him a bit. “I’m having fun.”

“Good.” But he wanted that out-of-focus look in her eyes again, so he brought her closer and kissed her, deeper this time, longer, until the song changed. “You let me know when you’re ready to go.”