Chapter 7

Cy arrived home that evening in a black mood. He’d been arguing with Brock for most of the day and he’d finally left to avoid punching the deputy. Supper would be over with by then, and that suited him just fine since he didn’t want to argue with Daphne.

Walking over to the house from the barn, he saw Leigh sitting on one of the rocking chairs. She’d changed into a green-and-white cotton dress and sat close enough to the railing to prop her bare feet up on it.

As he approached her, she smiled at him.

“Hello, Detective Decker,” she said. “How was your day?”

He grunted and took the seat next to her.

“That good, huh? Would you like some of this?”

He raised an eyebrow at the cup she held out to him.

“Lemonade,” she answered.

Silently taking the cup from her, he drank it down in one gulp.

“You really did have a bad day,” she said. “Brock?”

Another grunt.

“You sound like a caveman.”

A smile curved his mouth.

“How was my day, you ask?” Leigh said. “Well, it was busy. Johnny and I reorganized the tack room because it was a disaster. Then I put him to work cleaning tack while I wrote out a purchase order for some hay and oats. After that, Johnny and I cleaned the rest of the barn, fixed a few things, and then did the night milking. Daphne’s fried chicken was delicious. After supper we did the dishes and now here I am.”

Yes, you are. His eyes traveled over her pretty feet and up over her exposed, shapely calves. By the time his eyes met hers, hunger had set in, and he couldn’t think about anything but kissing her. He didn’t want to think about anything but kissing her.

“Sounds like you had a full day. I’m glad Johnny was a good help to you.”

“He speaks!”

He chuckled. “Sorry. It’s just that after days like today, I don’t feel much like talking. I just need to be still. I know that sounds strange.”

“No, it doesn’t. I always felt the same way whenever I argued with Pete, my father-in-law. After you’ve yelled yourself hoarse, you just don’t want to keep talking.”

“I take it you fought a lot.”

Leigh nodded. “We sure did. That’s the biggest reason I came here. To get away from him and because I would finally get a chance to do what I love. Run a farm. Well, a ranch, but they’re not that much different.”

“Pete sounds like a jackass.”

“He is.”

Her tone of voice said that she didn’t want to say more on the subject, so Cy changed it. “Where’s Johnny?”

“Over at your cousins’. Daphne went with him.”

“How come you didn’t go?”

Leigh said, “I was content to just sit here and do this.”

“You look good just sitting there doing that.”

His compliment made her blush. “I’m glad you think so. Since you like the way I look here and you drank all my lemonade, you get to fetch me more.”

Cy smiled, rose, and went into the house. He liked how uncomplicated Leigh was, a rare trait in a woman. She was a straight shooter, and she made him smile. Good things to have in a wife. He also wanted her intensely, which he hadn’t been expecting.

He refilled Leigh’s cup and poured one for himself. He took them out to the porch, retrieved the plate of food that someone had put in the warmer, and returned to the porch. Sitting down, he mimicked her pose, propping his long legs up on the porch railing and crossing them at the ankles. He wasted no time in tucking into his food.

Leigh smiled as she watched him. She’d always enjoyed watching Walt eat, and it was the same with Cy.

He noticed her perusal. “What?”

“I like a man who has a good appetite. I was waiting for you to lick the plate clean.”

Her pulse went a little erratic when his gaze trapped hers. “If I did, if I was a good boy, would I get a reward?”

His sensual charisma almost made her answer in the affirmative. Strangely, she very much wanted to watch him lick his plate clean. A giggle took her by surprise.

“I think I’m overtired. I almost said yes.”

His grin made her blood run hotter. “And I would have done it, too.”

She giggled again, and he chuckled.

“I just remembered something,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“You already owe me a reward from this morning,” he said.

“Do I? I don’t remember that,” she replied, draining her cup and standing up. “It was a long trip and a long day. Time for me to go to bed.”

Quick as a rattlesnake, he laid his plate on the chair she’d just vacated, grabbed her wrist and pulled her down onto his lap. Her weight landed on him with satisfying suddenness and the surprised gasp she let out fanned the flames of his desire.

Cupping the back of her head with one hand and supporting her back with the other, Cy brought his lips in contact with hers, settling his mouth firmly over hers. Her lips were so soft and tasted of lemonade. He coaxed her mouth open with the tip of his tongue and slipped it quickly inside when she parted for him. Growling his pleasure, he deepened the kiss.

Leigh recovered from her shock, her own passion coming to life. His kiss was insistent, and she answered his demand, twining her tongue with his. She moved her hands over his shoulders, enjoying the powerful muscles under her palms. Playing with the soft hair at the back of his head, she pressed closer to him, sighing when he kissed her even harder.

Cy squeezed her calf and ran his hand up under her dress, relishing the silkiness of her skin. His hand continued over her knee and along her thigh, teasing and exciting as it went. Leigh’s eyes popped open, and she clamped a hand over his, halting his progress. She broke the kiss and drew back, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Not before we’re married,” she whispered.

Cy smiled understandingly even though he ached uncomfortably in certain places. “All right. I respect you, Leigh, and I’ll never do anything you don’t want me to. But I hope you don’t want a long engagement. Keeping my hands off you is gonna be really hard.

The proof of that rubbed against her rear end as he shifted slightly in the chair. It both pleased and scared her that she excited him. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She carefully stood up. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Cy said.

Once she was inside, he blew out a huge breath. Looking at his lap, he said, “Down, boy.” Picking up his lemonade, he gulped the cool beverage down, hoping that it would distract him from the heat flowing through his body.

Up in her room, Leigh lay awake, wrestling with guilt. She hadn’t even so much as kissed a man since Walt’s death, but Cy had easily stirred her passion. Toying with her wedding ring, she knew that she should take it off, but doing so would mean that she was ready to put another man’s ring on her finger. She’d come to marry Cy and she would follow through on that promise, but she couldn’t help feeling as though she was cheating on Walt.

She knew that wasn’t uncommon for people who’d lost their spouse and then found someone else, but Cy was the first man who’d touched her since Walt. Walt had been the first and only man she’d ever kissed or made love to. Their lovemaking had been satisfying and had deepened their bond.

Would she find that kind of happiness with Cy? He was so different than Walt, who had been much more outgoing. Walt had always teased people or cracked jokes. Cy had a cynical streak and tended to hold things inside. Of course, Walt had never had to deal with discrimination and adversity at every turn, either.

Leigh didn’t know much about her future husband. She needed to get to know him before they married. But would he talk to her? Would he tell her what had hurt him so deeply and had made him so closed off? Why did she feel protective of Cy when he was a big, strong man, who could take care of himself?

Maybe it was because she sensed that inside his chest beat a secretly tender heart, one that had endured great pain. That was why she felt so strongly. They were kindred spirits in that respect, but for different reasons. She wanted to know his story, but she knew that she’d have to make him feel safe enough to tell her about his past. As she grew drowsy, she decided that she would start working on that right away.

The next morning, Cy was barely downstairs before Johnny came through the kitchen door.

Cy’s eyebrows shot up. “What are you doing up? I didn’t figure you’d be out of bed before at least ten o’clock.”

Johnny went over to the stove and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Good morning, Daphne.”