Dylan Read online

  Before he could get out to repeat the process, Ronnie got out and closed the gate behind them. When she got back into the front seat, he thanked her. “Saved me a trip.”

  “My pleasure. Now tell me just what it is that smells so sweet out here.”

  “Hard to say,” he answered. “My brothers and I narrowed it down to one or two possibilities over the years.”

  She watched his face, amazed at how different he looked when he was talking about the Circle G, how relaxed he appeared now that they were on Garahan land. “Are you going to make me drag it out of you?”

  He tilted his head to one side and seemed to be thinking about it. “That could be interesting.”

  “Arrgghh… Dylan!”

  At the fork in the road, he turned left. “In a few minutes, we’ll be closer to one of the sources of the sweetest scents known to man.”

  They drove for about a half a mile before he pulled over next to a pond. This time he turned off the truck when he put it in park. He got out and opened her door for her. “Come on,” he said reaching for her hand.

  She swung her legs to get out and placed her hand in his. Skin to skin, palm to palm, felt good… felt right. Letting him lead, she willingly followed.

  “Stand right here,” he said, positioning her at the edge of the pond. “Now wait for it…”

  “For what?”

  “Patience,” he said watching the tall grass on the other side of the water. “OK… now breathe deep.”

  She did and was rewarded with a lungful of the sweetest air on earth. “Is it the water or the grass?”

  “Don’t know. Tyler thinks it a combination of the grass, water, and good old Texas dirt.”

  She nodded. “I have noticed that different parts of the United States have different colored dirt. I suppose it makes sense that it would smell different too.”

  Dylan got down on one knee and dug into the dirt by the edge of the pond. “Watch the grass and wait until it starts to sway toward us, then take another deep breath of the air, water, and dirt.”

  Ronnie did as she was told, watching Dylan’s expression change from hesitant to expectant. She really was a goner if she was ready to sniff a handful of Texas dirt just because Dylan asked.

  “Well?”

  “I can’t decide which of the three it is, but the air is definitely sweeter out here than in town.”

  Dylan tossed the dirt on the ground, brushed his hand on his thigh, and reached for her again. This time, he reeled her in and held her close. “What is it about you?”

  She tilted her head back and looked up at him. “Maybe it’s you.”

  He lowered his mouth; she licked her lips and stood on the tips of her toes, unable to wait for him to move closer. He shifted her closer until not a breath of air separated them and then simply devoured her. She melted against him, wanting him more than the next breath she took. Taking her cue from him, she let her tongue trace the shape of his mouth before delving deeply to tangle her tongue with his.

  Dylan’s moan of pleasure heightened her own. When he gently set her away from him, she wondered why, but didn’t have a chance to ask.

  “We really need to go now, or my brothers will be very hungry tonight, because I won’t be going back inside until I’ve spent some time plumbing your depths.”

  She shivered at the thought of making love to her hot Texas hunk out by the pond. “Can we come back out here… later?”

  Dylan grinned. “Darlin’, you can count on it.”

  “OK, we’d better get going before I change my mind and jump you right here.”

  Dylan looked like he’d swallowed his tongue. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath before opening them again. “Ronnie darlin’, you’d best get back in the truck. I’ll follow along behind.”

  She reached for his hand, but he shook his head. “Not going to happen if we’re going to make it back to the kitchen without tearing each other’s clothes off before we go three feet.”

  Nodding, she dropped her hand and walked over to the truck and got inside. A few minutes later, he joined her.

  The ride back the way they’d come seemed longer than the ride out to the pond, most definitely due to the fact that they were both trying to keep their hands to themselves and their lusty thoughts under control.

  Finally, Dylan pulled up next to the house. Getting out, they walked side by side but didn’t touch one another. Ronnie knew if she did, they’d have an audience if the loud voices coming from inside the house were real and not the TV or radio.

  Dylan opened the door for her and she walked into pandemonium. She froze on the threshold and felt her jaw go slack. Tyler and Jesse stood in the center of the room arguing while a pan smoked on the stovetop, sludge bubbled in the bottom of the drip pot on the counter, and the sink was rapidly filling with water.

  “What the hell is going on in here?” Dylan bellowed the question.

  His brothers turned as one and started speaking at the same time. Since it seemed that no one was going to take the pan off the burner, turn off the faucet or the coffeemaker, Ronnie did while the men argued.

  Finally, she’d heard enough. “Will you three listen to one another?”

  As one the men turned to face her. “Well, now, Dylan, why didn’t you say that you had someone with you?” Tyler asked.

  “Ronnie, how are you?” Jesse said, moving toward her with his hand outstretched.

  Charmed, she grasped it and heard an odd sound coming from behind her. “Do you have a large cat?”

  Tyler grinned. “No, what you’re hearing is the sound of our brother outlining his territory.”

  Confused, she shook her head. “By growling?”

  Jesse shot a look in his brother’s direction and finally let go of her hand.

  Dylan moved closer and wrapped his arm around Ronnie. He turned toward Jesse and ground out, “Stop horning in on my woman.”

  A thrill raced up Ronnie’s spine. She looked up at him. “Yours?”

  His nostrils flared and his gaze narrowed, connecting with hers. “Yeah. You got a problem with that?”

  She felt the smile from the inside out. “Not on your life.” Going with the flow, she slid her arms around Dylan’s waist and hugged him tight. “Oh, by the way, guys, I turned off the stove, the coffeemaker, and the faucet. What were you two trying to do: burn the place down or flood it?”

  Tyler shrugged, and Jesse put his hands in his back pockets and rocked back and forth but didn’t say anything.

  Dylan reached out and smacked Jesse on the back of the head.

  “Hey, what did you do that for?”

  “If you have to ask, then you’re not as smart as you think you are,” Tyler said with a grin.

  “Are the three of you finished?” Ronnie asked, easing out of Dylan’s embrace. “A fire in the kitchen is a serious matter. You should always pay attention and not leave the coffeemaker on so long that it turns the coffee into sludge.”

  Tyler nodded. “My fault, sorry.”

  “Who left the empty pan on a lighted burner? That’s a bigger risk of fire than the coffeemaker.”

  “Sorry,” Jesse said. “My fault.”

  “What about the sink?”

  Tyler and Jesse looked at Dylan who raised his hands up in the air. “Can’t pin that on me, guys. I was with Ronnie.”

  From the identical looks on the Garahan brothers’ faces, she knew just what the men were thinking; she felt her cheeks flushing with heat. Oh yeah, they knew exactly what she and Dylan had been doing before they got here. To redirect their thoughts, she smiled and made shooing motions toward Tyler and Jesse. “Out of the kitchen.”

  Jesse stopped in his tracks. “But it’s our kitchen.”

  She grinned up at him. “Ah, but you can’t cook like I can.”

  He looked at Tyler for help. The oldest Garahan shook his head. “I’ll start on the laundry if you’ll start on the upstairs bathroom.”

  Jesse cringed. “Best two out of three falls
, and I get to do the laundry.”

  Before he could carry through on his suggestion, Tyler grabbed the front of Jesse’s T-shirt and pulled him toward the door. “Maybe next time. Come on, Bro.”

  “Alone at last,” Dylan said wrapping his arms around Ronnie from behind and hugging her to him. “I could get used to seeing you in our kitchen.” He kissed the side of her neck. “And out by the pond later.”

  Warmth radiated from the pit of her belly up to her heart; this time, she could swear she heard more cracks as bigger chunks of the wall around her heart broke apart. “Play your cards right, cupcake, and you could have both.”

  He spun her around until they were face to face. “I’ve warned you about teasing.”

  She slid her hands around his neck and met his hungry gaze and raised him one. “Who’s teasing?”

  Their lips met and her heart soared. When his hands swept down to grip her hips, she placed her hands on top of his as she firmly pushed him away from her. “I need some space if you expect me to cook dinner for your clan.”

  His eyes smoldered and he reached for her again.

  Ronnie shook her head. “Think about where you’d like to start when we’re out by the pond later beneath the soft light of the moon, while I rustle up something to make your taste buds stand up and sing.”

  Dylan’s eyes spoke volumes. The want, the need, and the passion combined as one and called to her, tempting her to simply reach out and take his hand, but Ronnie was raised to do the right thing. She made a promise, and it was up to her to be strong enough to keep it.

  “Later,” she whispered. “Now skedaddle.”

  Dylan spun on his boot heel and stalked from the kitchen.

  She knew he wasn’t angry with her; more than likely he was trying to deal with the same sensory overload she’d been trying to cope with since they’d come apart in each other’s arms earlier that afternoon.

  Ronnie put her hands on her hips and surveyed her temporary domain. All was well. The frying pan had stopped smoking and the sludge in the coffeemaker was cool enough to pour down the drain. The only disaster looming was the water in the sink; it was a few drops short of overflowing.

  She started rooting through cabinets and came up with a huge stockpot and a smaller saucepan. “Perfect.” She carefully dipped the saucepan in the water and scooped some up, ladling it into the large pot. After the first few pans full, the sink was no longer in danger of spilling over onto the oak wide board floor, so she reached in to pull out the drain plug.

  She poured the dregs of the coffee into the swirling water, diluting the sludge so that it wouldn’t clog the drain or the pipes. Third disaster averted, she leaned back against the counter for a moment and took it all in: the height of the ceiling, the well-worn countertops, and the coveted farm-style sink, big enough to bathe twins in.

  “Where the heck did that thought come from?” Shaken to the core, she brushed her hands on the seat of her denim skirt and opened the fridge. Dylan was right; it was well stocked. Deciding to go with something simple but filling, she pulled out two packages of beef cubes and rummaged in the cabinets until she had most of the ingredients she needed for beef stew. Reaching for her tote bag, she pulled out the spices she was never without: basil, oregano, and garlic powder.

  “I wonder if they have any red wine.” It was like playing a child’s game, hunting up ingredients and the thrill of discovery when she found them. Finding a bottle among several others surprised her; she would have thought the Garahan brothers only drank beer.

  “And that would be stereotyping,” she chided herself. “And you know how much you hate when people do that to you just because you have an Italian last name, dark hair, and come from New Jersey.”

  Using the shortening she found among the cooking supplies, she added it to the Dutch oven and tossed the defrosted beef cubes in the bag of flour. The familiar motions of cooking soothed her frayed nerves and helped to center her focus on the job at hand, which was important because if she didn’t she’d end up burning dinner.

  A little while later, the stew was simmering on the back burner and she was studying the contents of the freezer once more, this time for dessert. “Jackpot!” Ronnie pulled a couple of packages of frozen mixed berries out to thaw.

  “Lucky devils,” she muttered to herself. “You’re going to get my grandmother’s triple berry pie.”

  Two hours later, the kitchen was cleaned and dinner was ready. “Now where did everybody go?” She wandered outside but didn’t notice anyone right off. “Hmmpf.”

  She turned and started walking toward the barn. It was dark inside, and the soothing scents of hay and horse washed over her. It had been a long time since she’d done any riding, longer still since she’d competed in barrel riding. The soft whicker coming from the first stall had her stopping to greet the friendly animal.

  “Hey,” she crooned. “Nice to meet you.” Ronnie stroked the star blazing between liquid brown eyes down to the soft muzzle. When the horse started lipping her palm, she giggled. “Sorry, I didn’t bring anything with me.” She looked over her shoulder and spotted a bag of grain. “I’ll be right back.”

  Dipping her hand in the bag, she scooped up a handful of oats and a chorus of whinnies sounded. “Excellent sense of smell, guys. I’ll get you some in a minute.”

  Going down the row of stalls, she greeted and pampered each and every horse. “Quarter Horses are so beautiful,” she murmured, coming to the last stall. The horse raised his head and kicked at the sides of the stall.

  “Easy, boy,” she soothed all the while admiring him. “Aren’t you pretty.”

  After he finished showing off for her, he tossed his head one last time, moved to the stall door, and nudged her shoulder. She laughed and offered the handful of oats.

  Dylan couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d come into the barn searching for Ronnie and found her petting Wildfire and offering him a treat. His horse wasn’t known for taking to strangers—then again, neither was he—but he and his stallion seemed to agree on the woman from back East.

  “I see you’ve met Wildfire.”

  She turned and smiled. “He’s so beautiful… they all are.”

  Dylan’s heart swelled with pride. They raised steer for beef at the Circle G, but they also raised Quarter Horses to breed and to sell. The horses held a special place in his heart. “They’re not just work horses—”

  “Quarter Horses are bred to work the ranch, but are amazingly fast barrel racers,” she interrupted.

  He looked down at the woman and shook his head. “You always manage to surprise me, darlin’.” Taking her hand, he lifted it to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “How do you know about my horses?”

  “I used to be a barrel racer… was pretty good at it too.”

  He grinned. “The more I find out about you, the harder it is to think about letting you go.”

  The solemn look on her face had his gut clenching. “Then don’t let go of me.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Ever?”

  “Why don’t we just take it a day at a time?”

  “All right,” he drawled. “I’ll let you know if I’m keeping you after supper.”

  Her jaw dropped, and he touched the tip of his finger to her chin to gently close her mouth. “Careful, darlin’. Around here, you might catch some flies… really big ones.”

  She snapped her jaw shut and glared up at him. “If you’re lucky, I just might let you eat the meal I cooked for your brothers.”

  “Just my brothers?”

  “We’ll see how I feel by the time I walk back to the kitchen.” Spinning on her heel, she stalked back to the kitchen.

  Dylan wasn’t taking any chances. Dinner smelled so good, he nearly wept in gratitude. If it tasted as good as it smelled, he couldn’t afford to let her get mad enough at him to deny him a sample.

  He caught up to her and swept her up in his arms without breaking his stride. “Don’t pout, darlin’. It gives you a wrin
kle right here.” He touched his fingertip to the frown line between her eyebrows. Unable to resist, he pressed his lips to the tiny line forming there.

  The snarling sound coming from the woman in his arms had him chuckling. The elbow to his stomach had him stumbling and setting her down to draw in air. “You are the most contrary woman I know.”

  “Oh,” she said sweetly. “Do you know that many?”

  He started to answer, then thought better of it. “At the moment, you’re ahead of the pack.” Let her chew on that one and digest it.

  “Hey, Dylan,” Jesse hollered out the back door, “what’s keeping you two?”

  “Coming,” he yelled, grabbing ahold of her hand and pulling her along behind him.

  “I’ve heard that before,” she sneered, slipping out of his grasp and running ahead of him. She paused at the back door, where Jesse stood grinning down at her. “You hungry?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jesse answered. “Smells good enough to eat.”

  She shook her head at him. “That’s the plan.” Before Dylan made it to the bottom step, she slipped her arm through Jesse’s and pulled him into the kitchen.

  Jesse kept looking over his shoulder, but she patted his arm. “Don’t worry, he won’t stay mad for long.”

  Jesse cleared his throat and mumbled, “Don’t count on it.”

  “Did everybody wash up?” She was setting out a stack of plates when Dylan made his move.

  He caged her against the counter and bent his head, whispering, “Jesse’s right.”

  She got her gumption back and then some, pushing against him and spinning around in his arms. “Back off cowboy.”

  “Did you just call him cowboy?”

  “Shut up, Jesse!” she and Dylan said at the same time.

  Dylan fought against the urge to smile. Damn, but he really liked her moods… the meaner she got, the more attraction he felt. Contrary, his grandfather’s voice echoed in his head. Always were.

  “Not gonna happen in this lifetime,” Tyler said walking into the room, with a disheveled Emily in tow.

  Emily smoothed her hair out of her face but couldn’t do anything about the telltale wrinkles in her once smooth T-shirt minidress.