Page 221 of Ride a Cowboy

“A few weeks,” she teased. “You think that’s enough time to expose me to all the wonders of good country living?”

“Better make that months,” Mark added. “Or even a year, just to be sure.”

Though Matt knew they were kidding around, he also knew there was a strand of seriousness behind his brother’s request. Matt wanted more time with her too. More time to figure out what this feeling was and what to do with it. He’d known Bridget less than a week, but he felt certain he was falling in love with her.

“A year would be nice, but I think I’d lose my job if I stayed away that long.”

Matt tilted his head. “You know, after all this time, I’ve never thought to ask. What do you do for a living?”

She paused, and again, Matt was struck with the uneasy suspicion that Bridget was still holding back with them. Something about her confession the previous night had felt off. Several times today, he’d felt the same sinking awareness that something was very wrong. It was more than a nasty boyfriend looking for her. A quick glance at his brother confirmed Mark was thinking the same thing.

“I—”

Before she could finish, Matt placed his fingers against her lips. Pure instinct drove him. “Don’t.” He wasn’t sure how he knew it, but his gut told him she was about to lie. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to. It’s not important to us what you do. We like you just fine.”

She seemed taken aback and fell silent for several moments. Matt let his gaze travel to the snow-capped mountains outside. He could see the appeal of this place, could understand why his mother loved it so. When closed in the warm, cozy gazebo, the worries of the world disappeared, ceased to matter.

“I’m a reporter for a small newspaper.”

Matt looked at Bridget and grinned. At last, she was beginning to trust them with a bit of the truth. “Jacob will go crazy when he finds that out. He’ll pelt you with a million questions.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I bet he will.”

Mark moved closer to Bridget. Matt waited for some spark of jealousy, expecting the move to ignite his competitive spirit. Nothing happened. Well, not nothing. His cock moved from its semihard state to fully erect. Freud would have had a field day with this predicament, but Matt didn’t care.

“We all seem to be ignoring the elephant in the room.” Mark ran his hand through Bridget’s hair. She’d worn it down, rather than in her usual ponytail. Matt preferred it this way.

“Elephant?” Bridget asked.

“Last night.”

Mark let those two words answer her question.

“I keep thinking I should feel bad about that,” she said. “But the truth is I don’t. I’d sort of like to do it again.”

Matt couldn’t resist teasing her. “You mean orgasm and then pass out?”

She laughed. “Don’t start with me, cowboy. That was your fault. I worked my ass off on your ranch and drank the wine you poured.”

Mark tugged on her hair. “Spoken like a true woman. Blame the man.”

“There are two of you and one of me. You better be sure I’ll score my points where I can.”

Matt lifted the picnic basket out of the way and scooted closer. “Fair enough. So let’s explore this do it again comment.”

She raised her hand and cupped Matt’s cheek. Her soft hand felt good against his skin. “This time I’ll stay awake. And this time, I don’t want to be the only person removing clothes.”

Her hand drifted down to his long-sleeved shirt, her fingers caressing his chest. Suddenly, he resented the cloth that restricted her touch. He took her hint and pulled his shirt off completely. Behind her, Mark did the same.

For several moments, she looked at them, her fingers touching them, learning them. “I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe you want me.”

More truth. Matt sensed the walls crumbling a bit. He reached for the hem of her shirt and lifted it. She helped him remove it, remaining still, letting them look their fill.

Mark broke the silence first. “How could we not want you, Bridget? You’re beautiful.”

She turned and pressed her forehead against his brother’s brow, then she moved closer, initiating the kiss. Matt watched the two of them, blown away by the intense beauty of their actions. They broke the kiss and Bridget turned to look at him.

Matt claimed her lips. He’d only gotten a brief taste the night before. Today he intended to make up for that. For several moments, he lost track of everything except Bridget’s lips—her taste, her smell, her soft moans. When he opened his eyes, he discovered Mark had removed her bra. Looking down, he saw his brother’s hands wrapped around Bridget’s middle, cupping her breasts, playing with them.

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