Can a hot fling on a Wyoming ranch lead to more than just sex?
Tired of bringing home unsatisfying and nameless men, Delia Hawthorne needs a change of pace. When her Aunt invites her to spend some time at their family’s Wyoming ranch, it takes little prodding for her to agree. Time away from work, bars and men is exactly the break she’s been looking for.
When Delia arrives, she finds what she has come to avoid: a take-charge ranch hand Lucas Dane. Despite her Aunt’s warning of Lucas’ womanizing reputation, she decides he may be worth the risk. What starts out as just sex quickly turns into more—forcing Delia to choose between the guy she is falling in love with and her responsibilities back home. What’s a city girl to do?
Available in e-book from
Read an Excerpt
Copyright © 2010 Emily Cale
All rights reserved
“You named the cow, Bessie? Creative.”
“Her real name is Terra. I just like calling the cows ‘Bessie’.” He moved to stand next to her.
Instinctively, she crossed her arms. Left free, she was sure they would start rubbing his body, finding all the crevices she had yet to explore. “So, this is the part of the job where you taunt me while I work?”
He chuckled. “While it would be far more entertaining for me to watch you figure this out on your own, I have other things to get done today. One of those things, getting these cows milked a second time. So, I was thinking I would just help you out. That is, if you’ll accept help.”
Delia was relieved. She didn’t really want to sit there for another hour making an idiot of herself. He walked over and grabbed another pail from the equipment area.
“So what exactly is the deal here? You take your first vacation in years so that you can do chores on a ranch?”
She frowned, wondering what exactly her aunt had been telling everyone. “Who says I don’t take holidays?”
“Erica told me. You haven’t been here in quite a few years. Something about a guy screwing you over.”
Her Aunt had a big mouth. After Chris left, she had nothing to focus on but work. Now the emptiness of her life seemed to be catching up with her. She cleared her throat, ignoring the pang in her chest.
“The first thing we need is a clean bucket. Once it’s been knocked over, it’s no good anymore.”
Feeling more at ease, he hadn’t pushed the topic any further, she turned back to the cow. He walked into the stall and stood next to her. Yesterday, when she was wearing heels, he’d seemed tall, but now in her tennis shoes, he seemed gigantic. His chin could easily have rested on her head. “Next, you need to cozy her up. She’s usually pretty gentle, but if she doesn’t think she’s being treated right, she can get a bit unruly.” He used his foot to push the stool closer. “Sit down and tuck the bucket between your knees, that way she can’t knock it over again. You wouldn’t want to do all this hard work just to have to start over a third time.”
Just as he instructed, she sat on the stool with the bucket tucked tightly between her thighs. He nodded approvingly and grabbed a second stool, placing it right behind hers. He straddled the bench, his chest pressed to her back. His manly scent drifted to her nose—musk and pine. Just one whiff made her ache for him. Her juices flowed at the thought of his member pressed up against her lower back. How in God’s name was she supposed to work in these conditions?