Cowboy's Kiss by Victoria Pade Page B

him problems. Making him mad at himself for working her the way Shag had worked him and Linc and Beth. Making him mad for being worried when he’d lost her, for being relieved and grateful when he’d found her. Making him maddest of all for wanting to wrap his arms around her and hold on to her to convince himself she really was okay....
    No, he didn’t need this. Not any of it.
    And he sure as hell didn’t need her right there in front of him every minute where he had to look at that wild, curly copper hair, and those eyes that made him think of the ocean, and that rear end that wasn’t much more than a couple of handfuls...
    So he was pouring the work on pretty thick. Ignoring every inclination to ease up on her. To accommodate her.
    To kiss her....
    Not that he’d actually ignored that inclination. He’d damned near given in to it. Only at the very last second had he stopped himself.
    She didn’t belong here—that’s what he’d reminded himself to keep from making a huge mistake. And that’s what he said yet again to himself now.
    He needed her to get the hell out before it was too late.
    Too late for him.
    Before he got used to having her around. Before he started to like it. To count on it.
    Because about the time he did, he knew what would happen. The reality of life here would hit her. It would get to be too much for her.
    And that would be when she’d leave.
    So no matter how much he hated himself for what he was doing to her, he’d go on making things rough, trying to speed up the process of her getting her fill of this place before he got in too deep.
    And if there was a part of him that almost hoped it wouldn’t work?
    He was fighting it. Hard.
    Much, much harder than he was working her.
    * * *
    It was nearly seven when Ally and Jackson finished for the day. By then the fence they’d fixed stretched behind them for more than a mile. But when they got into the truck, Jackson didn’t head back the way they’d come to return to the ranch.
    â€œWe aren’t going home?” Ally asked, wondering if he actually had more work for them to do today. And how she could possibly do it being as tired as she was.
    â€œFirst I have to pick up a randy stallion that went courtin’ a neighbor’s mare last night,” he answered, going on in an unusual bit of talkativeness. “I swear the horse has radar. Every time this particular mare comes into season he seems to know it and he gets to her. I think if he was on the East Coast and she was on the West, he’d still catch the scent and make a beeline.”
    Ally tried not to be uncomfortable with the subject. “Maybe it’s love.”
    Jackson gave her a sideways glance that said how silly he thought that idea was, but didn’t comment on it. Instead he said, “Didn’t you wonder why I had the horse trailer hitched up?”
    â€œNot really. This is my first time in the truck. I thought maybe it was just always there.”
    That won her a second of those looks from the corner of his eye, but there was no time for more than that as they reached a small yellow ranch house. A boy of about fourteen sat on the porch doing what looked like exercises with his left arm—which was missing a hand and the forearm nearly up to the elbow.
    Without preamble or an invitation to come along, Jackson hopped out of the truck.
    â€œJackson!” the boy greeted as if he were thrilled to see him.
    â€œâ€˜Evenin’, Josh,” Jackson answered as Ally did a quick debate with herself about whether to just wait or join them.
    She finally decided that if she was going to live around here, she needed to know her neighbors and not be considered unfriendly, so she made the effort to move her weary body and got out, too.
    She followed Jackson to where he stood with one booted foot on the lowest of the six steps that led to the porch. When she got there, he nodded in her direction