Boots and The Rogue: Ugly Stick Saloon, Book 10 by Myla Jackson Page A
Authors: Myla Jackson
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attention that morning in a kiss he wouldn’t soon forget.
He hoped, by painting, to get her out of his mind. This painting turned out to be of her face as she looked up at him, her lips begging to be kissed. Rather than work her out of his system, the painting revved his libido and made him want her more.
Well past noon, he realized he hadn’t moved from his position in hours, and it was getting hot.
Stretching, he decided he needed a break to work the kinks out of his shoulders and maybe head back to the house for lunch. Colin would be gone for the day. Angus might be working his horses, and his mother… Oh hell, who knew what his mother was doing since she’d gone on strike.
Which left Jessie. Possibly alone.
He almost decided to stay and paint for the rest of the day rather than face her again. An apology was probably in order for taking advantage of her and kissing her like he did.
Brody capped his paints and moved the easel into the cabin, closing the door. He’d come back later and finish what he’d started. If only people and relationships were as easy to manage as a painting. He hadn’t realized just how warm it had become until he wiped the sweat from his brow.
Instead of hopping on the four-wheeler and heading back to the ranch house, he walked over the top of the next hill and down into the valley where the old swimming hole was located. After staring at Jessie for the past several hours, he could use a cooling swim.
He’d almost reached the tree line along the creek when a movement caught his eye. A horse emerged from the brush, a saddle on his back. As Brody neared, he recognized the brindle coloring of Jessie’s gelding. Fully saddled, the reins looped over the saddle horn, the horse bent to pull at a tuft of grass.
Where was Jessie?
Brody’s heartbeat kicked up a notch and he lengthened his stride until he was running down the hill toward the creek. Had she been thrown? If so, was she lying facedown in the water, drowning with no one to pull her out?
Fear wrapped around Brody’s heart and squeezed his chest so hard he could barely breathe as he pushed his way through the trees and bushes and emerged onto a giant boulder overlooking the old swimming hole.
Breathing hard, his gaze swept the water, searching…
A slim, pale figure surfaced and rolled over onto her back, the water glistening on her skin.
Jessie. Naked and natural, a water nymph gliding through a sylvan pool.
She lay on her back, staring up at the canopy, a slight smile curling her lips, her arms and legs skimming the water in graceful strokes.
Brody dragged in a deep breath to calm his rampaging pulse. It did no good. Desire replaced fear, and his heart beat on in a rapid staccato. Caught in a trance, he sank down on the rock, his gaze fixed to the beauty below, his cock hardening, his body on fire, aching to take the woman into his arms and hold her, surrounded by the water, the trees and the sparkles of sunshine finding a path through the leaves above.
Even as his body lusted for her, in the back of his mind he was naturally selecting the oils it would take to capture the magic of her image on canvas. She was the muse to his art.
His brothers would laugh at his strange thoughts. But they weren’t there. Brody had Jessie to himself.
She was halfway across the pool before she spotted him, her eyes widening, her arms and legs stopping their fluid motion. Then she sank beneath surface.
Brody leaped to his feet, kicked off his boots, shucked his jeans and shirt, and dove into the pool.
Jessie thrashed below the surface, apparently struggling to get her arms and legs in a position to help her.
Coming from behind her, Brody slipped his arms beneath hers and dragged her up for air.
Jessie twisted around, coughed, sputtered and clung to him as he slowly swam them to a shallower point where his feet could rest on the bottom.
Droplets streamed over her face and down her neck to her shoulders. She coughed the water from
He hoped, by painting, to get her out of his mind. This painting turned out to be of her face as she looked up at him, her lips begging to be kissed. Rather than work her out of his system, the painting revved his libido and made him want her more.
Well past noon, he realized he hadn’t moved from his position in hours, and it was getting hot.
Stretching, he decided he needed a break to work the kinks out of his shoulders and maybe head back to the house for lunch. Colin would be gone for the day. Angus might be working his horses, and his mother… Oh hell, who knew what his mother was doing since she’d gone on strike.
Which left Jessie. Possibly alone.
He almost decided to stay and paint for the rest of the day rather than face her again. An apology was probably in order for taking advantage of her and kissing her like he did.
Brody capped his paints and moved the easel into the cabin, closing the door. He’d come back later and finish what he’d started. If only people and relationships were as easy to manage as a painting. He hadn’t realized just how warm it had become until he wiped the sweat from his brow.
Instead of hopping on the four-wheeler and heading back to the ranch house, he walked over the top of the next hill and down into the valley where the old swimming hole was located. After staring at Jessie for the past several hours, he could use a cooling swim.
He’d almost reached the tree line along the creek when a movement caught his eye. A horse emerged from the brush, a saddle on his back. As Brody neared, he recognized the brindle coloring of Jessie’s gelding. Fully saddled, the reins looped over the saddle horn, the horse bent to pull at a tuft of grass.
Where was Jessie?
Brody’s heartbeat kicked up a notch and he lengthened his stride until he was running down the hill toward the creek. Had she been thrown? If so, was she lying facedown in the water, drowning with no one to pull her out?
Fear wrapped around Brody’s heart and squeezed his chest so hard he could barely breathe as he pushed his way through the trees and bushes and emerged onto a giant boulder overlooking the old swimming hole.
Breathing hard, his gaze swept the water, searching…
A slim, pale figure surfaced and rolled over onto her back, the water glistening on her skin.
Jessie. Naked and natural, a water nymph gliding through a sylvan pool.
She lay on her back, staring up at the canopy, a slight smile curling her lips, her arms and legs skimming the water in graceful strokes.
Brody dragged in a deep breath to calm his rampaging pulse. It did no good. Desire replaced fear, and his heart beat on in a rapid staccato. Caught in a trance, he sank down on the rock, his gaze fixed to the beauty below, his cock hardening, his body on fire, aching to take the woman into his arms and hold her, surrounded by the water, the trees and the sparkles of sunshine finding a path through the leaves above.
Even as his body lusted for her, in the back of his mind he was naturally selecting the oils it would take to capture the magic of her image on canvas. She was the muse to his art.
His brothers would laugh at his strange thoughts. But they weren’t there. Brody had Jessie to himself.
She was halfway across the pool before she spotted him, her eyes widening, her arms and legs stopping their fluid motion. Then she sank beneath surface.
Brody leaped to his feet, kicked off his boots, shucked his jeans and shirt, and dove into the pool.
Jessie thrashed below the surface, apparently struggling to get her arms and legs in a position to help her.
Coming from behind her, Brody slipped his arms beneath hers and dragged her up for air.
Jessie twisted around, coughed, sputtered and clung to him as he slowly swam them to a shallower point where his feet could rest on the bottom.
Droplets streamed over her face and down her neck to her shoulders. She coughed the water from
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