“That’s very flattering.”

  “That’s very tough on my package. Now hang onto my shoulders, wrap your legs around my waist, and lift your cute little tush.” When she did, he slid the coat under it.

  “I have a feeling you’ve done this maneuver before.”

  “Never in a very cold tractor barn.”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t have taken off your coat.”

  “I plan to be plenty warm in a minute, and you need it.” He set her back down so he could pull off her jeans and panties and work one of her legs completely free.

  Her breathing sped up as she positioned herself on his coat, wiggling her bare fanny against it. “Kinky.”

  “Sorry. You’re not staying there. Hang onto me.” His heart was pounding by the time he slid both hands under her bottom and lifted her off the fender. “Wrap your legs around me again.”

  Once she did that, he found her entrance with the tip of his cock and let gravity take care of the rest.

  “Mmm.” She closed her eyes.

  “I know.” He tightened his jaw against a groan of pleasure.

  She opened her eyes and excitement gleamed there. “I feel so decadent.”

  “Good. That should make it all the better.” He sucked in air as she squeezed his cock hard. “Easy.”

  “You said we had to do this fast.”

  “Yeah.” His grin was tight. “But we should have a little bit of fun, first. I’ll lift you up and then you push yourself back down. I have a firm grip on you. You won’t fall.”

  “I know I won’t. I trust you.”

  “But you will come.”

  She held his gaze. “I know that, too.”

  “You have to be quiet, though.”

  She nodded. “You’re still wearing your hat.”

  “No good place to put it. You’re still wearing yours, too.” He smiled. “I kind of like having sex with a woman wearing a red knit hat. I’ve never done that before.”

  “And I kind of like having sex with a man wearing a Stetson. I’ve never done that before, either.”

  “Then here we go.” He eased her upward and she used the leverage gained from his shoulders to push back down. Dear God. He kept thinking that sex with her couldn’t be as good as he imagined, but then he’d bury himself in her again and realize that, yes, it was just that good.

  They established a tempo, one that slowly picked up as if by mutual consent. He watched her eyes darken and her lips part. Neither of them groaned or whimpered.

  Even their breathing, though it was rapid, seemed softer. Without words or moans filling the silence surrounding them, the rhythmic beat of his thrusting became the dominant sound. The quicker the beat, the more he throbbed with anticipation.

  Sweat trickled down his spine as he pumped faster. “Soon,” he murmured.

  She gulped. “Yes.” Her fingers dug into his shoulders. A tremor moved through her.

  “Come for me.” He squeezed her smooth bottom as he pushed her upward one last time.

  She shoved down again and he gasped as heat and motion swirled over his cock.

  He watched her climax reflected in her eyes. Dragging in a breath, he surged upward and claimed his own climax. Holding her steady as he pulsed deep inside her took all the strength he had. If she’d weighed an ounce more, he wouldn’t have been able to do it. She was perfect… so perfect.

  When he began to shake, she smiled gently. “You need to put me down.”

  He nodded, but he didn’t want to let her go. Easing away from her felt wrong. He wanted to carry her to the back of the tractor barn and find somewhere they could lie down and rest. Then they’d do it all again.

  Instead, he tucked his still-twitching cock back inside his briefs and zipped up. Then he pulled a bandana out of his pocket and handed it to her so she could clean up. She kept it.

  He didn’t know if she planned to wash it and return it or keep it as a souvenir. Either way worked for him. He helped her back into her jeans and slid her boot on.

  Once she was standing, he retrieved his coat and brushed the dust from the part that had come in contact with the tractor fender. The lining carried the subtle odor of sex, and that was fine with him, too. He put the coat on and breathed deep.

  Then he laid his hat on the newly dusted fender and gathered her into his arms for one long, lazy kiss. He didn’t want to leave the tractor barn without paying attention to her wonderful mouth.

  In a way, kissing her was more personal than having sex, although he couldn’t explain why. All he knew was that kissing Molly felt like a special privilege she’d granted him and he loved it. She responded with her signature enthusiasm. Apparently she enjoyed kissing him, too. Good to know.

  With great reluctance he finally pulled back. “We need to go.”

  “I’m sure we do.” She gazed up at him, her expression dreamy. “Your saddle is beautiful, but I doubt anyone would believe I spent this much time admiring it.”

  “Let’s hope no one was clocking us.” He stepped back but kept hold of both her hands. “I have such an urge to throw you over my shoulder and carry you off to… I don’t know. Somewhere with a soft surface.”

  “I have such an urge to let you do that.”

  “But this party is important for both of us. You flew here so you could help your aunt celebrate, and I’m pretty excited about how she’ll react to that saddle.”

  “She’ll love it, but we’d better get moving, cowboy.”

  “Yeah.” Squeezing her hands, he released her and picked up his hat.

  “I’ll get the wrenches.” She pulled them out from under each door and handed them to him.

  He put them back exactly where they’d been. Then he walked over to the doors. Just his luck, Jack’s red truck pulled up in front of the tractor barn. Ben swore softly under his breath and closed the door.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Jack just drove up.”

  “So what? You brought me to the barn for a quick look at the saddle. He doesn’t know how long we’ve been in here.”

  “No, but…” He surveyed her from head to toe. “You look well-kissed and extremely satisfied.”

  “You just think that because you know what we’ve been doing.”

  “I think that because it’s true. And your hat’s on crooked.”

  She straightened it. “Better?”

  “A little. You still look… ah, never mind.” One truck door slammed followed by a second. “Sounds as if Jack’s bringing someone with him.”

  Ben walked over to where the saddle was perched on its stand and whipped the blanket off right before the door opened. He turned with a smile of welcome as Jack came in with a woman who wore her blonde hair in a long braid down her back. Probably Josie. “Hey, Jack! Heard you drive up. Pete said there was some trouble with the plumbing at Spirits and Spurs.”

  “There was, but it’s handled. Josie, this is Ben Radcliffe. Ben, my wife, Josie.” Jack’s tone was casual, but his gaze wasn’t as he glanced from Ben to Molly.

  “Pleased to meet you, Josie.” Ben focused on her and tried to ignore the fact that Jack was sizing up the situation.

  “Same here, Ben.” Josie looked over at Molly. “Guess you couldn’t stand the suspense either, huh?”

  “Nope.” Molly smiled. “And it’s a beauty.”

  Ben still thought she looked like the cat that ate the canary. Intuition told him Jack was picking up on it. Could be trouble ahead.

  Josie was protected from the cold like everyone else, in a bulky parka and a blue knit cap much like Molly’s red one. Fortunately she was there to see the saddle, and it seemed to absorb all her attention. “Oh, my.” She moved toward it and caressed the leather. “I’m no expert on saddles, but I’ve never seen one this pretty. Love the turquoise and silver accents.”

  “It’s designed to fit Bertha Mae perfectly,” Jack said. “We haven’t tested that, but—”

  “It’ll fit,” Ben said. “If it doesn’t, I’ll rebuild the saddle.”

  Josie’s blue eyes widened as she turned to stare at him. “You’d start over?”

  “If I have to. I stand by my work.”

  “I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Jack said. “We provided Bertha Mae’s measurements along with Mom’s measurements to make sure that the saddle would be perfect.”

  Josie chuckled. “Sarah’s measurements? How’d you get those, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Pete.” Jack looked smug. “I didn’t tell you about his scheme?”

  “No, I missed hearing that story. I’m sure I’d have remembered.”

  “Pete’s a sneaky guy. He bought her a one-of-a-kind outfit in Jackson that he knew for sure was too big. When she had to have it altered, he got all the specs from the seamstress.”

  “Goodness.” Josie shook her head. “FYI, if you ever decide to give me a beautiful saddle like this, just ask me for my measurements instead of going through all that rigmarole. I’ll be happy to give them to you.”

  Jack tipped his hat back with his thumb. “No need. I know your measurements.”

  “You most certainly do not! I’d bet there’s no husband on the planet who knows his wife’s measurements exactly.”

  “Test me sometime.” Jack grinned at her.

  “I will, and you’ll be way off. Anyway, I love this saddle, Ben.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Sarah will, too,” Josie continued. “Don’t you think so, Molly?”

  “I do. Ben’s done a wonderful job.”

  “Thanks, Molly.” He knew she would have said that no matter what, and she’d told him last night the work was good, but hearing her say it again warmed him. He had come to value her opinion quite a bit.

  He was in the awkward position of wanting her to think well of him, yet knowing in his heart he didn’t deserve her good opinion. She trusted him when he didn’t even trust himself. For the short time they’d be together, he could keep his flaws hidden, though. That was the advantage of knowing she’d leave on Monday. He wouldn’t think about the sunshine that would leave with her.

  “I texted Pete before we left Spirits and Spurs,” Jack said. “He seems to think we can risk moving the saddle up to the side of the house so it won’t take so long to bring in after the party starts. I told him Josie and I would do that, but since you’re here, Ben, you and I can carry it.”

  “Sure.” Now that the unveiling was less than two hours away, Ben’s chest tightened with anxiety. Everyone had praised the saddle, but Sarah was the one who had to be pleased. He’d know the minute she saw it whether she was or not.

  “I think you should text him again and make sure Sarah’s otherwise occupied,” Josie said. “After all this, we don’t want her to glance out the window and see you and Ben carrying something from the tractor barn. I don’t care if it is covered with a blanket. She’ll know what it is.”

  “Yeah, I’d better do that.” Jack nudged back his hat and pulled out his cell phone. “Never would have believed I’d depend on this silly thing the way I do. I carry it everywhere now. Phone calls are bad enough, but texting is unmanly.”

  Josie held out her hand. “Want me to text Pete and protect your manhood, cowboy?”

  “No.” Jack scowled and moved his thumbs over the keyboard. “I’m just sayin’.”

  “Personally, I love that you carry your phone everywhere.” Josie stuck her hands in her pockets. “Then you can’t perform your manly disappearing act when there’s an unpleasant chore to be done.”

  “My point, exactly.” Jack glanced up from the phone. “Go ahead and cover the saddle, Ben. I’m sure we’ll be hauling it out of here in a couple of minutes.” His phone chimed and he read the text. “Yep. Mom’s taking a shower, so we’re good to go.”

  Ben settled the blanket back over the saddle. The next time it was pulled off, he wouldn’t be the one doing it. Something he’d labored over every day for two months was about to leave his care. That always felt strange. He had a picture of it on his phone, but he might never touch it again. He always felt a little sad when he had to part with one of his creations, and he’d put more of himself into this one than any other.

  Jack tucked his phone into his jacket pocket. “Ladies, if you’ll hold the doors for us, the manly men will carry this precious cargo out of here and over to the house.”

  Ben got on the front and Jack took the back, which was the same way they’d carried the saddle and stand into the barn. So much had happened since then.

  “I’ll back down the path,” Jack said. “I know it better than you do.”

  “Okay.” Maneuvering carefully, he guided the saddle through the door and let Jack set the pace. Molly and Josie followed. Judging from the bits of conversation Ben caught, they were talking about Molly’s genealogy project.

  “What’s between you and Molly?” Jack’s quiet question was abrupt, but not unexpected.

  Ben met his gaze. “We like each other.”

  “Thought so. And I just realized I know almost nothing about you.” Jack’s breath fogged the air between them. “Careless of me.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Are you unattached?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where’s your family?”

  “Colorado.”

  “Visit them much?”

  “No.”

  Jack frowned as if not happy with that answer. “Why not?”

  “We…don’t see eye to eye.”

  “Does Molly know about that?”

  Ben hesitated. “I’ve mentioned it.”

  “Did you give her the details?”

  “No.”

  “Then I suggest you do that.” Jack’s dark gaze hardened. “I suggest it very strongly. It’s important information for a woman like Molly.”

  “You’re right.” Ben’s gut clenched. He’d told himself Molly was better off not knowing the gritty details of his past. But she was an open book, so the scales weren’t balanced when it came to their relationship. And they had one. He could no longer pretend otherwise. She might be coming back to Wyoming this summer. What then?

  Yeah, it was time to give her the whole story. She deserved to know that she was dealing with a man terrified of losing his temper, afraid of who he’d become.

  “And Ben?”

  “Yeah?”

  “If you don’t treat her like the extremely valuable person she is, you’ll answer to me. And it won’t be pretty.”

  “Understood.”

  “You’re one hell of a saddle maker and I love what you’ve made for my mother, but hurt one of my own, and you’ll wish we’d never met.”

  “I won’t hurt her. You have my word.”

  Jack’s smile was colder than the breeze sweeping down from the snow-covered mountains. “Break your word, Radcliffe, and I’ll have your ass.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Molly heard Jack and Ben talking about something, but they spoke in low tones, as if they didn’t want her or Josie to hear them. A couple of times Jack glanced in her direction. She couldn’t shake the feeling they were discussing her. If so, then Jack suspected something.

  Josie might, too, but Molly hadn’t spent as much time with her as she had with Jack. Josie might not feel comfortable asking about Ben. Jack, on the other hand, allowed nothing to stand in the way of protecting those in his care. Sarah had told her that the other day, and now she’d seen it in action. When Jack had stepped into the tractor barn and spied her there with Ben, his whole manner had changed.

  Sure, he continued to joke with his wife, but underneath that banter something in his tone made her think he was mentally arming himself to confront a potential threat. She appreciated the impulse, but she didn’t want Jack to protect her from Ben. He reminded her so much of her brothers, who’d been intimidating her boyfriends ever since she’d turned sixteen and had been allowed, with major restrictions, to date.

  Extreme protectiveness, both from her brothers and her parents, had been one of her reasons for moving into town instead of continuing to live at the family ranch. She was the only girl, which meant she’d had to fight for her sexual freedom. If she hadn’t moved out, she’d probably still be a virgin.

  No doubt her brothers would disapprove of her relationship with Ben, but they weren’t here. Unfortunately, Jack was filling their role to perfection. She’d have to politely ask him to butt out, but finding a private moment to do that might be tough.

  Right after Jack and Ben hid the saddle under a large tarp at the far end of the house, Jack slung an arm around Josie’s shoulders. “Come on, babe. We need to shower and change for this shindig.” They both hurried back to Jack’s big red truck and drove away.

  The wind had picked up, so Molly helped Ben tuck the canvas tarp more securely under the stand so it wouldn’t flap. Maybe she was being paranoid about Jack’s conversation with Ben. She should ask Ben about it before accusing Jack of meddling in her business.

  Ben beat her to the punch. “Molly, we need to talk.” He straightened. “Maybe out here’s as good a place as any.”

  “Was I just the topic of conversation between you and Jack?”

  “Yes, and—”

  “Is he trying to protect me from you?”

  “In a way, but that’s not the point.”

  “It is the point. I’ll speak with him. I’ll let him know that this was mostly my idea. I don’t want him to get the wrong impression of you. After all, you’re hoping to do more business with him. I don’t want to interfere in any way with that.”

  “That’s fine, but I still—”

  “Hey, are you Radcliffe?” A middle-aged ranch hand with a handlebar mustache walked toward them, his boots crunching through the snow drifts.

  “I am.”

  “I’m Watkins.” The man shook hands with Ben. “Glad I caught you. Hey, Molly.”

  “Hey, Watkins.” Aunt Sarah had filled her in on the stocky cowboy’s background. Two years ago, after a long courtship, Watkins had won Mary Lou’s hand in marriage. Watkins had a first name, but nobody remembered what it was. He was also one of the guitar players scheduled to perform for tonight’s party.