Page 148 of Well Played

That kiss changed everything for me. Whether Leah knows it or not, she’s mine and I’m hers from here on out. That sweet, tentative, yet passionate kiss told me so many things. I’ve never been a fanciful guy. I have sex when I have the need and a willing woman in town. For a while, I’ve had my hand. Especially since my last foray into dating ended with the woman in tears because she thought I was going to propose. I knew I didn’t love Vicky, and I was surprised as hell when she told me she loved me.

Somehow, the thought of marrying Leah, of making her mine forever, doesn’t scare me. It doesn’t do anything except make my heart beat faster and get me excited about the future.

When I reach the horse barn, I’m still whistling thinking about trying to steal another kiss from my girl. And possibly more…but no rush. I have the feeling that Leah doesn’t have much experience with men. I actually love that. I know it’s barbarian of me, but I love the fact that I may be her first and last lover.

The first sound I hear is a low sob. It takes me only a second to realize that it’s coming from my girl.

Leah’s head is bent over while she repeatedly rubs her hand over Stormy’s dark coat. Small sobs escape her throat, and I can see her shoulders shaking.

Deep sympathy stirs in my gut.What’s wrong with my girl?

I gently touch her shoulder and she knocks my hand away defensively. Her mouth opens in a scream until she sees that it’s me. Then her shoulders droop and fear dissolves into embarrassment. She wipes at her tear-stained face.

“Leah, tell me what’s wrong. You were fine yesterday. What changed between yesterday and today?” I ask gently.

I use the same voice I do with horses that have been horribly spooked. “You can trust me, sweet girl. I’m here for you.” I reach out tentatively, and she finally lets me touch her shoulder without flinching.

She wipes at her face again. “I’m fine.” She tries waving me away, but I turn her around to face me.

“Leah, I’m here to listen. I want to listen to anything you have to say. Let me in. I care about you.”

She takes a deep breath and twines a blonde curl around her index finger. For a moment, I don’t think she’s going to say anything or that she’s going to blow me off again. But instead, she opens her mouth and begins speaking in a somber tone.

“I didn’t always live with my dad. I was the product of a drunken rodeo one-night stand. Daddy was a rodeo star, like you,” she says with a wobbly smile, and I nod. I knew this. Herfather, John Charles, is a legend in the sport I was once obsessed with, saddle bronc riding. After retiring from the rodeo, he made a bundle creating custom motorcycles for people. Now, his little motorcycle shop has branches all over the United States.

She bites her lower lip, which I notice is still shaking. I gently rub her back to give her any comfort I can.

“My dad and mom decided to try to turn a one-night stand into something more when she found out she was pregnant. My mother, Janet, was a rodeo bunny and not really ready to settle down, but I think she figured what the hell. At least she had roped in a man who had some money and would take care of her. What my dad didn’t know about my mom was that she was an addict. Meth, crack, you name it, she had probably tried it all.”

She blows out a long breath. “Dad says she stayed clean while she was pregnant. I guess that’s a blessing. And for the first six months after, she tried to be a happy housewife. But something changed one day, something snapped and old habits came back. She took me and went back to her old lifestyle.”

Her blue eyes dim with memories of a tough time. I ache to hold her in my arms, but she needs to let this story out.

“She took me away from Dad. He couldn’t find us. He looked for us. He looked for us for five years. During that time…” she trails off and bites her lip again. I reach for her hand, and she lets me intertwine my fingers with hers.

“During those years, Mom was deep into drugs. She sometimes forgot I was there. If she did remember I was there, well, that was worse…she was mean while she was high. She wasn’t a happy addict, but angry, always angry. I used to pray she would just leave me alone, and sometimes she would for days at a time.”

“Fuck,” I say underneath my breath, and she flinches.

She sends me a small smile. “Hey, I made it through. I made it here. My dad found me and took me away and I haven’t seenJanet since. But sometimes like last night, the memories come back to me in my dreams. I wish they would just go away, but they won’t. Same thing happened the night before the accident with Stormy.” She runs her hand along Stormy’s flank again. “The memories, the dreams, they always seem to come when I’m at my happiest.” Her cheeks redden and she looks down at her booted feet. “And I was happy last night.”

I tip her chin up with my index finger. “Hey, I was happy too. Kissing you made me happy, makes me happy.”

I pull her into me and rest my chin on the top of her head. “I wish I could take it all away, sweetheart. If I could, I would.”

“I know,” she murmurs, “I know.”

I hold her for a long time, breathing in her vanilla scent and letting her find comfort in my touch.I will take care of this woman. I will make sure she smiles again.

7

For the firsttime in my life, I feel irresistible. -Leah

Leah

Kisses come frequent after that.Little, quick ones on the lips, passionate, long ones that leave me panting for more…kisses from Matt are abundant. What is not so abundant is the rest of it. My cowboy continues to treat me like a skittish horse and backs off when things get too heated. I know he wants me. I know it by the way he watches me with heat in his eyes. I know it by the way he touches me even when he doesn’t need to. Most of all, I know it by the erection that I feel against my core when we’re engaged in those passionate kisses.

Stormy and I are making progress. She almost let me saddle her up the other day, waiting until the last minute to buck and send me ahell noexpression. I haven’t had a bad dream in over a week and I’m starting to feel well…itchy. Horny to be exact.

---