Cowboy Not Included: The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 6 (15 page)

Booker leaned against his truck bumper and stared at the gravel drive leading off the ranch. His mind was fogged—he felt stunned. Seeing his little girl… God, she’d grown so much since he’d seen her last. And when she’d said “Daddy” he’d damn near lost it.

Between the little blonde imp and her mother, Booker’s heart was sliced into so many scraps it wasn’t good for anything but the pigs.

He tapped a boot heel into the dirt and a cloud swirled around his feet. For long minutes he stood there, absorbing the heat of the metal from the sun and letting his mind skitter from Skye to Findlee to the nest egg in his bank account. Then on to his new office duties and whether he could even balance all this.

Skye wasn’t work. He knew how to read her perfectly. Knew what buttons to punch to get her engines revving. But other women were more difficult. Once he had a demanding female and his ranch duties, he’d feel spread thin.

He shook himself. He couldn’t think about that today. He still had Skye.

A catcall sounded, and he looked up to see the she-devil herself walking toward him, hips twitching with each booted step. The sight of her punched him in the gut. For a moment he couldn’t find any oxygen. Then he scrubbed a hand over his face and dragged air into his deprived lungs.

Fuck, when had it happened? When the hell had he fallen for her again?

Somewhere between having her ankles over my shoulders and watching our daughter together.

“Hey.” She sidled up to him, looking as skittish as a new foal.

He tipped his hat at her. Words were beyond him.

As she leaned against the truck, a deep yearning filled his soul for things to be different. Why the hell hadn’t she given him a chance way back when? She always wanted to see the worst in him. The secret rose inside him, so close to bursting out. Telling her would soothe him—for all of ten seconds. Then he’d feel terrible and she probably wouldn’t buy his story anyway.

“You all right?” she asked softly, nudging his arm with hers.

“Yep.”

She turned big brown eyes up to him. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you never did.” He shoved away from the truck, spun and rested his elbows on the tailgate. Looking back down the drive didn’t ease the anger churning his guts. He felt like getting behind the wheel and running.

“Wait. What are we talking about?” Ire was in her tone where it hadn’t been seconds ago.

“You. Me. You always believed I was lying about something, that I’d been with half the women I crossed paths with.”

“Well, with your current profession, it’s not so hard to see.”

He jerked his head her direction and glared. “This. Is. My. Job.”

“Some job.”

“It pays your bills, doesn’t it? Besides, you didn’t complain when my tongue was curled around your clit.”

“Oh, shut up, Booker.” She raked her fingers through her hair but her nipples were hard pebbles. “Look, I didn’t come out here to fight. I came to see if you’re okay. I know it was hard to talk to Findlee.”

“Not hard. Good. Fucking amazing. I’m an idiot to have stayed away this long, but no more, Skye. I’m in her life and you’re going to have to deal.”

She blinked, some emotion he didn’t understand crossing her beautiful features. “I want you in her life. It’s part of the reason why I came here, remember? To talk to you about it.”

He snorted. “That and to get laid by hot cowboys.”

“My getting laid by Teller was your doing. Do I have to remind you?”

Some of his anger flowed away, replaced by a tingle at the base of his spine. How could he shove her out of his heart again when she was so damn cute? Her nose ring glinted in the sunlight and coppery highlights kissed her hair.

“Would you have let me share you when we were married, Skye?”

That tripped her. She stuttered before landing on some words. “You need a guy in bed?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

Her eyelids fluttered. Turned on, that’s what she was.

In a flash he hauled her against his body. “You liked having two men pleasure you.”

“Y-yes.” She splayed her fingers across his chest, her pinky resting over his tattoo.

“I’m going to take your ass, Skye, and then we’ll take you at the same time.”

Her breasts rose and fell against the scoop of her neckline. “I…”

He nuzzled her ear even as he cupped her ass. “This is mine, baby. Tonight.”

A shiver racked her. He was just lowering his mouth to hers and wondering why he’d agreed to wait till tonight to slide into her hot, tight body, when the crunch of tires on gravel sounded.

They broke apart.

A white truck parked and a cowboy jumped out. Jeremy tossed Booker a glance then drew up short. He reached into the bed of his truck and pulled out a sack. “This is the last of the joint supplements I can get in town. Two bottles for all those rescue horses.”

Booker released Skye and closed the distance between them. Jeremy had a bone to pick with him, that much was obvious.

“Two bottles should get us through a few days.”

“Yeah, but we can’t get more for two weeks. What are you going to do about it, Mr. Suit and Tie?”

“If you’re referring to my new job, all you need to do is tell me what to have delivered to the ranch and I’ll get it.” He faced Jeremy, prepared for anything, including a punch. Whatever was eating at him was like a black storm barreling toward the ranch, gobbling everyone in his path.

“Can you get the supplements before we have a dozen mistreated horses hobbling around the fields on frozen joints?”

“Yeah, I can,” he countered, spreading his legs to stabilize himself in case Jeremy took a swing. Skye stood not far off, watching. “What’s your beef with me, man? Are you pissed off that I’m in the office? You wanted that job.”

Jeremy pressed his lips into a pale line. “Things come easy to some, I guess. Then again, you’re the king.”

“I got the office job because I’m good at negotiating. I proved myself. You could have shown your cards at any time, Jeremy.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. No point in arguing with you.” He seemed to deflate, shoulders slumping and all the hot air leaving his system. Whatever was wrong ran deep. The man wasn’t himself at all.

“I’ll get some supplements delivered before those run out, okay?”

Jeremy didn’t meet his gaze. “Damn well better or I’ll be gunning for your job.” With that, he walked off.

Once he was a dozen yards out of earshot, Skye released a low whistle. “What the hell was that?”

“Don’t rightly know. He’s been riding me lately. It’s apparent he wants my office job, but—” Suddenly he realized he wanted to show her where he’d been that morning. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

When he took her into the office and showed her his small space, pride infused him. He waited for her to say something.

“So you’re working in here now? After I leave you’re not doing…” She raised her brows.

“No, this is on top of my other duties.”

“Seems like a lot.”

“Yeah, but I’ll manage it. I like this.” He waved at the stacks of papers and numbers he’d crunched earlier. As he met her gaze, he saw the admiration there. “I see you respect this job more than my main one.”

“No matter what you do, you’ve always been a hard worker, Booker. If not for you, we wouldn’t have gotten the house. We wouldn’t have kept the house.”

“It’s not in the best part of town. I wish I’d chosen differently for us—for Findlee.”

“I know. But it’s comfortable and roomy enough for our little princess’s living room dance recitals.”

He smiled at the vision.

“Sounds like you have work to do finding some supplements. But before you do, take me to see these rescued horses.” Her eagerness reminded him of the girl she’d been on her uncle’s ranch. The one who’d impulsively agreed to marry him after a short dating period.

Since she’d come here, he’d seen her unfurl from a tight bud to the beautiful flower he knew. Damn, he was good at his job. If he could incite changes in his ex, he could make the Queen of England less uptight.

He gave her a crooked smile.

“What’s that shit-eating grin for?”

“I love your dirty mouth. C’mon, I’ll show you the horses.”

Skye trailed her fingers along the sparse mane of the horse before her. He’d been treated badly, that was for certain. It broke her heart that someone would abuse an animal this way, especially one so majestic.

“He must have been a beauty at one time,” she breathed.

Booker opened his palm to reveal a sugary treat for the horse and was suddenly his best friend. He nudged his hand for another treat, and Booker laughed. Skye’s heart convulsed at the sound and the small creases around his eyes. Also, for his soft spot for the very thin horse.

“He was a beauty. Still is. I’ll fatten him up and he’ll be as good as new.”

But the animal wouldn’t be. He’d suffered open sores and his hide was crisscrossed with lash marks. Skye’s throat closed up. The Boot Knockers might seem like coarse cowboys with only sex on their minds, but this was evidence of their insides. They’d brought this horse and many others to the ranch, knowing they couldn’t work or breed or earn in any way. They were drains on the ranch, and the Boot Knockers still did it.

“Booker, that rescued mare I rode the first day…I think you should call her Hope.”

He blinked at her then gave a nod. “I like it.”

She and Booker worked side by side for over an hour with the horses, caring for them. When he turned out his pockets to show he was out of treats, she laughed.

“Let’s go down to the office. I have to order some supplements for the horses. Then we can get a drink. Afterward, I’ll take you to see the little goats.”

She grinned. “Newborn?”

“Two days old. Jumping around like Mexican beans.”

“Oh Findlee would love that.”

They shared a smile that heart-throbbed her. Her ex was revealing brand new sides of himself—and she liked them all.

Too much.

For the first time since he’d left, she didn’t experience a sinking feeling when thinking about child visitation. They could make this work. He’d be there for his daughter and she’d actually call him Daddy because she knew what the word meant.

And his new job duty only made him seem manlier. Proving he could take care of all ends of the ranch, from pitching hay to getting the best bang for their buck. Plus he had a soft spot for horses. Add in his promise to take her in the ass, and she was a melted puddle.

We’re not Ranch Barbie and Ken and we aren’t playing house.
If she weren’t careful she could let her mind believe this was their place and they were a couple.

He ran into the office for a few minutes while she stood and talked to Holly. Once he emerged with a grin, she waved goodbye to her new friend, hoping to see her again before she left the ranch. Booker took her by the arm and they went into the grub house for frosty beers and little bags of trail mix. Skye held hers up and looked at the contents. “This is homemade.”

“Did you think Cook would give us anything less?” He twisted off the cap of his beer and chugged. With each ripple of his throat, she grew more restless. Her pussy begged for his lips, fingers, cock. And now that she knew he was planning to pop her ass cherry, a new kind of awareness struck her there.

He lowered the beer and met her gaze. Swiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

Damn, he’d caught her. “What way?”

“Like you could skip the goats and go straight to the ass-fucking.” The teasing light in his eyes was layered with pure carnal lust—and something she couldn’t put her finger on but she liked the looks of.

She let her gaze dip over his muscled form then back up to his handsome face. “I’d better see the goats first.” She held up her phone. “I’ll take some video for Findlee.”

“Good idea.” He switched the trail mix and beer to one hand and caught her elbow with the other.

As soon as they entered the pen that was tucked against the wall of an outbuilding, away from the extreme sun, she laughed out loud. Tiny, fuzzy goats frolicked all over.

“How many are there?”

“Four goats had two and three kids each.” His eyes glowed. Leaning against the low fence, he finished his beer.

“What will you do with all of them?”

“Sell some. Keep a few. Want to take one home as a pet?”

“No, I can’t handle any pets.”

He went dead still. “What do you mean? What happened to Spike?”

Their yellow Lab had come with the marriage. Booker had loved that dog, and when she’d had to put him down because he was suffering with the breakdown of his hips, she’d cried for a week.

When she didn’t reply, his eyes widened. “Spike’s gone?”

She rested a hand on his arm. “It was a hard decision but he was thirteen, Booker. The vet suggested it was best when he stopped being able to go outside.”

His lips tightened until they grew white. With a jerk of his arm, he threw his beer bottle. It smashed against the wall and glass scattered in the grass. Far enough from the goats but somebody would have a fun time picking it out of the thick turf.

She stepped away from him. “I’m so sorry, Booker.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We haven’t been communicating for a long time. It seemed like rubbing salt in a wound to contact you about this when we didn’t discuss the good things either.”

He made a strangled noise and settled his stare on her. Her heart broke a little at the loss she saw. Until the news was shared, Spike had been alive in his mind.

“Booker—”

Making a slashing motion, he cut her off. “It’s okay. You did what was best.” He walked to the gate and shot the bolt with a flick of his big thumb. “Want to pet them?”

“Yes.”

Patting the heads of mothers and babies helped ease the strain of Booker’s sadness. Then he took video of her with fuzzy kids crowded around her for Findlee. One goat in particular romped in a circle around her, its gait still disjointed so it looked like a windup toy.

“I think you’ve got an admirer,” Booker said.

She laughed and reached to scratch its ears but it danced away. “I’d take him home in a heartbeat. But I like my grass out back.”