How to Seduce a Texan

Chapter 11

Nikki knew she could do this. How hard could it be? She’d mapped out her strategic plan and was ready for any unforeseen complications that might arise. All she had to do was talk herself into doing it.

This was utterly ridiculous. She’d never lacked courage. She was the one who was always first to take a chance. She could do this, too. She closed her eyes and slowly counted to ten. She opened her eyes knowing there was no turning back.

She made sure the nose clamp was firmly in place. She’d found that little lifesaver at the hardware store, of all places. It was the kind swimmers used. Yeah, she was good.

Armed with a can of air freshener in each hand, she was ready. At least as ready as she’d ever be.

She leaned back and cautiously opened the door of the outhouse with the toe of her shoe and began spraying as she stepped forward, holding her breath, eyes closed, face turned away, and arms stretched out in front of her. The door closed behind her, but she continued to spray.

A white fog began to surround her. Oh, Lord, she needed air! Her lungs were about to explode. She stuck her head outside the door and drew in a quick, gasping breath before facing the interior once again.

She sprayed the inside of the outhouse with spicy apple air freshener for another good minute, then set the can on the floor, reached into the brown paper sack just outside the door, gasped another breath, and pulled out more ammo.

“I am The Barracuda and I don’t lose,” she said with fierce determination, except her words sounded like someone with a bad cold, since she still wore the nose clamp.

She peeled off the backs of the shiny foil stick-on scented fresheners to expose the sticky side and plastered them all over the walls. She’d bought every cinnamon-scented and spicy-scented room deodorizer they had in the store. She hadn’t even cared that the clerk had given her a strange look. Let him think what he would.

She slapped the last one on the wall. The outhouse looked as though an infestation of a new species of techno insects had infiltrated the walls. The smell was almost-almost-bearable if one didn’t linger, and she had no intention of staying any longer than she had to.

As she let the door slam behind her, she removed the nose clamp and scooped up the sack with the solar lights and the hammer. She walked down the path and hammered the lights in place. Three on one side and three on the other.

Let there be light.

And there was.

Well, there would be as soon as it got dark. Cal couldn’t find fault in her wanting to light the way to the bathroom. And if he did, so what?

She stepped up onto the porch and surveyed her handiwork. It almost looked homey. Yeah, right, as if she would ever feel like Suzy Homemaker. No way would she get used to a place this secluded. She liked the hustle and bustle of the city. The restaurants, the plays, the glitter of the nightlife. She didn’t care if she knew the people around her or not; at least there were people.

Not that she felt that alone here. She glanced over her shoulder into the dark interior of the kitchen. A cold chill ran down her spine. She didn’t think Cal had been joking when he’d said there was a ghost here. It was as though she could feel a presence.

Was there really such a thing as ghosts? Maybe her parents were wrong. Sure, there were special effects in the movies, but what about real life? There weren’t any out here in the middle of nowhere.

Maybe there was a ghost.

A series of guttural grunts made her jump. She slapped a hand to her chest and waited for her racing pulse to slow. Off to her right Bandit waddled toward a tree.

Okay, not a ghost, only the stupid raccoon, but she still had a creepy feeling about the old house. Probably because it was about to fall down around her ears; the wind whistled through it, making weird noises; and it had a musty smell that no amount of air freshener could get rid of.

Of course there was no such thing as ghosts.

There were only wild animals. Yeah, right. Now she felt a lot safer. She stayed on the porch but kept her eyes on the raccoon, curious to see what it would do.

Bandit was sort of funny to watch, the way his weight shifted back and forth like someone on a boat for the first time during rough seas. Not that she wanted to get to know the raccoon or anything. As long as he kept his distance, they would get along just fine.

Another sound drew her attention.

A vehicle.

Cal maybe?

She couldn’t see from where she was, but the pickup didn’t stop out front anyway. Whoever was driving kept going until he was beside the barn.

It was just one person, Cal, and he pulled a trailer behind the pickup. Nikki crossed her arms in front of her and frowned. Oh, goody, what does he have for me now? The excitement is almost too much, she thought sarcastically. She could barely contain herself, she could…actually, her body did tingle at the thought of seeing him again.

But she wasn’t all that enthused with what he might have brought her. She had a feeling whatever it was, she wouldn’t like it.

He still had no idea she wanted to do a story about him. No, he thought she really wanted to know about country living. Like that would ever happen-not in her lifetime.

She stepped off the porch and wandered over to the pickup. He didn’t even look up as he unfastened the back door of the trailer, even though she knew he’d heard her.

“Hi,” he said.

Hi? That was it? Just hi? Not that she wanted him to drop to his knees and profess his undying love or anything, but she’d expected a little more than a bland “hi.”

She drew in a deep breath and regrouped her thoughts. “Did you bring me another cow to milk?” she asked.

He stopped with his hand on the door. His gaze slowly traveled over her. Before the fire inside her could begin to sensuously burn out of control, he turned away and opened the gate.

“Just a calf to put on Bessie so you won’t have to milk at night.”

Had he forgotten the fabulous orgasm he’d given her? He acted as though nothing had happened between them. That bothered her more than she wanted to admit. She’d been taken to new heights, soared to the heavens on a hazy cloud of intense delight, experienced a sexual awakening.

She frowned.

Maybe it hadn’t been that good for him. He’d given a lot more than he’d received, but that wasn’t really her fault. She’d wanted to be more in charge, but that hadn’t happened. Cal had taken complete control of the situation-boy, had he. Her body sizzled as she remembered just how much he’d taken control.

She leaned against the side of the open trailer, pretending interest in the calf, but in truth, she needed something to hang on to as visions of them making love flooded her mind. The way he’d caressed her body, kissed almost every inch of it, the way he’d plunged inside her, in and out, in and out.

She was sweating. A droplet slid between her breasts. She hunched her shoulders when it tickled. What the hell was happening to her? Had Cal cast a spell over her like all the other women in his life?

Of course he hadn’t. Shake it off! Deep breath. She was The Barracuda.

Story, think story. Yes, that’s what she needed to do to take her mind off their lovemaking.

But the story didn’t interest her. She didn’t want to think about it or the fact that she had zilch information. It was a fluff piece. Besides, she was starting to feel as though she shouldn’t be doing it at all. Cal seemed like a nice guy, and what she planned to do wasn’t right.

Oh, God, she was developing a conscience.

No, that couldn’t be it. She’d been working too much on other stories. After she’d turned them in, she should’ve taken a few days off, but Marge had talked her into doing this story. The article about Cal and Cynthia was at the bottom of her list of things to do while Cal was at the top. And she so wanted to do him again.

Except the man seemed immune to her charms. Sure, she knew he’d enjoyed their morning romp, but apparently it didn’t mean nearly as much to him. She frowned as she wondered why.

But Cal once again drew her attention as he lifted the calf out of the back of the trailer, his arm muscles tightening before he set the animal on the ground. It bleated like a sheep and looked up at her.

Okay, so what if the baby cow was cute. She was more interested in the man. But the calf wobbled over to her. She stared down at it, wanting to tell the animal to go away, but she petted the tiny head instead.

Maybe it was a little more than just cute.

Nikki looked up. Cal was watching her. She blushed. She could feel the heat rise up her face. She never blushed. Dammit, though, she needed to know what he thought about their time in bed.

“I enjoyed this morning,” she pressed. She didn’t want an award for best sex or anything, but she’d like to know what he took from the experience, and maybe if he wanted to do it again in the future. Near future preferably.

He aimed the calf toward the gate. “Milking the cow or gathering the eggs? Both were good research.”

Her forehead puckered. “No, I mean, sure, the research was great. I was talking about after that.”

He nudged the calf inside the enclosure. Bessie Two was already at the fence looking at it. She sauntered closer, sniffing the tiny creature. The calf bleated again. The cow bumped the calf with her head, aiming it in the right direction. As if on instinct, the calf went right for a teat and began to suck.

Cal closed the gate, then looked at Nikki. “Oh, you’re talking about when we had sex. Sure, I enjoyed myself.”

That’s all? He enjoyed himself? She had expected a little more from him.

“The cream is probably ready to be skimmed off the milk. You’ll love churning butter. Pioneers didn’t need all the fancy gyms they have now. Not when they had to work just to put food on the table.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” The pioneer women all looked like drudges, too, from the pictures she’d seen.

He eyed her. “Have you managed to work the stove?”

She quickly put her hands behind her so he wouldn’t see them tremble. “Are you joking? I was made for this kind of life.” What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. And she hadn’t really lied. Okay, maybe she had.

An hour later, Nikki was wishing someone would amputate her arms. God was punishing her because she’d lied about using the stove. No, that couldn’t be it. If that were the case, she’d have been churning milk into butter long before now.

This was torture, though. Cal had poured the cream into a large glass jar and screwed a lid on it that had wooden paddles and a handle. When she turned the handle, the paddles spun through the cream.

There wasn’t a lot to it, at first. But then the cream began to thicken, and even though she frequently changed sides, her arms felt as though they might fall off any minute. They ached all the way across her shoulders.

Cal opened the door and stepped inside the kitchen. “I put the calf up so she won’t get tomorrow’s milk.”

Don’t do me any favors!

“Great.” She smiled at him. If nothing else, she was a damned good actress.

Cal smiled back, not buying her performance for one second. An actress, she wasn’t. And he still wasn’t sure she’d really used the stove. It didn’t look as if it had been lit in months. She had to be getting tired of PB &J sandwiches by now. This story must be real important to her. He hated that she was going to be disappointed.

He almost laughed when he remembered how she’d tried to find out what he’d thought about them having sex. He’d intentionally downplayed how much he’d enjoyed it and was rewarded when her forehead wrinkled in disappointment. She’d quickly covered it up, though. Nope, he wasn’t about to tell her it was the best sex he’d ever had.

He watched for a few seconds as she turned the handle. He remembered when his grandmother had stuck him with this chore. He’d rather clean stalls all day than churn butter, and he’d never acquired a taste for fresh butter, either.

“The cream is churned,” he said. He’d cut her a little slack. It might not be good publicity for the ranch if her arms fell off.

“Oh, it is. I was having fun, too.”

“If you move your hand off the handle, we can unscrew the lid and get it into the molds.”

She grimaced, then took her other hand to free the one holding the handle. “It seems to be locked in this position.” She laughed without humor. “Unused muscles, I suppose.”

“You’ll toughen up; don’t worry.” He patted her on the back.

She sucked wind.

“Think of all the research you’re getting. I bet you’ll write a hell of a book.”

“Oh, I’m sure before I leave here I’ll have everything I need.”

That’s what you think.

But Cal only smiled. He planned to show her all there was to know about the ranch, but that was the only information she’d have when she left. For now, he’d leave her to her own devices, but after he left, Cal found it was a lot harder to stop thinking about her.

It took him a long time to fall asleep that night.