Page 17 of Claimed by the Lawman

“You’re still young, maybe you gave up too soon.”

“Aw, that’s very kind of you, but honestly I was ready to come home. Thankfully, I have some money saved up. Rogue wants me to come back to the ranch and help run it.”

“Probably not a bad idea. There aren’t many opportunities for an actress here and I remember how you loved working the ranch. Loved the horses. You even talked about breeding. There’s still that possibility.”

“I have given it some thought.” She ripped the paper towel into strips. “I saw that the old Majestic Theater is still empty. I’ve tossed around the idea of making an offer to buy it.”

“Sure, but considering you have a business degree I don’t need to tell you that you’ll need to make a profit. The movie business can be draining, especially in a small town.”

“I could have drama classes too. Even live theater.” Her mind spun with ideas.

“And you’d be happy doing that?” He scratched the bridge of his nose with his thumb.

“Why are you looking at me as if I’ve grown horns?”

He shrugged. “Bohannan wasn’t enough for you fifteen years ago. A few more stop lights, craft stores, and a new diner probably isn’t enough to hold your attention now that you’ve gotten the taste of the city life.”

“Whether you believe it or not, I love Bohannan. I still love horseback rides, dancing in the rain, and cowboys.” Her eyes shone brightly. “I’ve missed the county fair. Carnival food. Townspeople gathering during those street parties and forgetting all their troubles after a few line dances. Remember how much fun we had just being kids? We were young and dumb, but who needed wisdom when life was amazingly good? Do you still play darts? I could kick your butt then, and I bet I still can. Point is, I’m still the country girl you remember.”

“By the looks of your choice of clothing,” his warm gaze swept down her T-shirt and her nipples were so tight she thought they’d explode. Not a good feeling when she was trying her best not to round the table and sit on his lap like she used to back when they were kids. “One could think the county girl is back, but the truth is, sass—” he must have caught himself using the old nickname because he swallowed hard, “you’re used to fancier things. When was the last time you ate at a greasy diner? I’d bet my eye teeth you haven’t had a fried pickle since you wore braids. Or had too strong coffee made without all those fancy schmancy brewers or been touched by a good ol boy with callused hands.”

She squirmed. “You might be right on a few of those things, but do you need to watch me down a slider and an order of fried pickles? You can take a girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of a girl. I can still spit a watermelon seed farther than you, Cade.” Although it was very unlady like to do so, she used to challenge the Cade brothers to watermelon spitting contests and she’d win almost every single time. “I bet I can still throw a dart and hit the bullseye each and every time.”

He laughed. “Fine, you’re still a country girl, and if opening the theater is something you’d like to do, then by all means, have at it.”

“I’m speaking with the owner tonight.” She could barely contain her excitement. “Imagine this town with a theater. I mean, who wants to go all the way over to the next county just to watch a movie?”

He swiped a hand down his jaw. “Movies. I haven’t been to one in…well hell. I can’t even remember.”

“You know it’s not healthy working all the time. We swore when we grew up we’d enjoy life.” She brought the glass to her lips and sipped.

“Yeah, until we actually grew up and realized we had responsibilities and bills to pay.”

“Remember how we used to dance during your family’s shindigs?” She jumped up and twirled. “They were so much fun. I have an idea.” She crossed to the old, dusty radio, turned it on and crooked her finger. “Come on, cowboy. Show me those moves.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I haven’t danced in too long. I’m rusty. We wouldn’t want any broken toes.”

Not taking no for an answer, she grabbed his hand. “I’ll chance a broken toe. Are you chicken?”

He met her gaze and a tingling sensation shot through her limbs. With a smooth grin he stood and together they stepped to the center of the room. The slow country song played from the radio as she stepped into his arms and brought hers up around his neck. Pressing her breasts against his hard chest, her nipples ached and her toes curled. Dropping her head back to look up at him, she said, “Do you and your family still get together every Sunday?”

“We try.”

His hands settled on the small of her back and his warmth seeped through her clothing. Their bodies molded together and she felt his desire rub against her stomach. Swallowing hard, she lowered one hand to touch his broad, smooth chest, feeling the muscles tighten under her fingers. “See, I knew you still had it in you.”

“I guess it’s like riding a bike.” His husky voice made her inner thighs quiver.

Not thinking of the consequences, she smoothed her hands down his ripped abs and stopped at the knot in the towel. Aching to drag the obstruction from his body, she held back, watching his whiskered jaw tighten. “What else is like riding a bike, Kace?”

“Tyler…” He brought his hand up to cup her cheek, his beautiful blue eyes turning darker.

“I think we just broke a dry spell. You’re right, I haven’t been touched by callused hands in a long time—strong, long-fingered, callused hands.” She turned her cheek and kissed his palm, darting her tongue out to lick his thumb, sucking the tip into her mouth. His hiss of breath made her smile. She enjoyed getting a response. The towel stretched. Her panties moistened.

“How was the tea?” she asked in a whisper-soft voice.

“Delicious, just like the conversation.” One corner of his mouth played with a smile.

The song ended and he pulled his hand away, letting it drift to his side.

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