Second Burn Cowboy (Second Chance Series Book 6) Read online

  Alone, Elsa lay down and closed her eyes. Everything was gone. Her livelihood. Her small apartment above the bakery. All she’d worked for over the last year was down the drain. What would she do?

  Hearing the rustling of the curtain, she exhaled, refusing to sit up. “Haven’t you asked enough questions?”

  “Apparently you’re not fond of Officer Downs.”

  The thick Texas twang brought her eyes open. She’d know that voice anywhere. Deckland.

  Lifting on elbows, she skimmed the six-foot-something, two hundred pound or more, massive frame of dreamy cowboy. He filled the room with his virility and unforgettable magnetism—filling her with a need that scared and thrilled her at the same time. Heat seeped through her veins and zapped her loins as memories exploded, one by aching one. His lips on hers, his hands stroking her, bodies melding…a sensuality she’d never felt before, and that was with clothes on. The trembling in the pit of her stomach was a warning that he was dangerous—and why she’d pushed him away before things had gone too far.

  “Am I interrupting? Were you resting?” he asked.

  “Oh. No. Come in.” She pressed the button on the flat panel, and the top of the bed slowly lifted until she was face to face with masculine sex appeal.

  “Your head feeling better?” He shifted in his worn boots.

  “At the moment, yes.” How could he make her want to smile even when her world was falling down around her ears?

  “Glad to hear.” He reached up and dragged his hat off. Dark locks sprang alive as his baby blues lit up, searing her to the bone. She melted like chocolate. “I wanted to stop and check on you before I left.” He took a step closer, and she got a whiff of burnt wood and noticed the spots of blood on his shirt.

  She focused on his bandaged hand. “The paramedic told me you were cut by glass. Are you okay?”

  Her throat tightened at the reality of the situation. He’d saved her life. She didn’t want to be indebted to anyone, but how could she deny the impact of his heroism?

  The blood pressure cuff tightened on her arm, and she grimaced. This was the most inopportune time for a check.

  He shrugged and waved his fingers. “An itty bitty scratch, that’s all. Doc thought I should get stitches to prevent infection.”

  “How many?”

  “Seven.”

  She gripped the material of her gown. “And you call that a scratch?”

  “Yes, ma’am. How about you? Any stitches or burns?” He ticked his curious gaze over her, and her flesh quivered. What had come over her? She’d almost lost her life, her business was destroyed and here she was practically drooling over him. Had she lost her mind? Then again, she had fallen and hit her head.

  Moistening her dry lips, she cleared her throat, demanding that her body stop responding like a schoolgirl. “A bump on my head and a few scratches. Nothing more. I owe you a big thank you. I wouldn’t have made it out alive if you hadn’t come along when you did. I’m not sure how I can ever repay you.”

  “You don’t owe me a thing. I did what anyone else would do in the same circumstance.” He twisted his hat in his hands.

  Modest, polite and attractive. Men with this combination of characteristics were hard to find these days. “No, I don’t think just anyone would rush into a burning building and save a stranger.”

  “You’re not a stranger.”

  She guessed he was right. “I feel bad that Peyton and April didn’t get their craving satisfied.”

  “I called and explained. They’d already demolished a jar of pickled eggs.” A smile curved one corner of his lips. “They asked me to send you their warm thoughts.”

  “Those two are my best customers. They’ve offered to buy stock in my business.” She laughed and awkwardly played with the IV tube.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. They’re going to give birth to babies addicted to pastries. You already have future customers in the making.” He chuckled. “It’s a good thing they sent me to your shop. The fire spread like—” His eyes widened. “What’s wrong?” Panic flooded his features.

  “I-I’m sorry.” Tears were falling onto her cheeks and she did her best to wipe them away, but they came faster than she could keep up. “I-I…my business…my home—it’s gone.” Her loud hiccup echoed off the sanitary walls.

  “I know this must be difficult.” He took a step closer and his brow furrowed. “Hell, I don’t know how it must feel. I’m sorry.”

  “I’ve worked so hard, saved so much.” Looking at him through her damp lashes, she wrung her hands together. The monitor beeped loudly.

  “Your blood pressure is a little high. You should relax.” He studied the digital reading.

  His words didn’t sink in. “How could this happen? Everything I had is gone. The fire destroyed it. Then that cop acted so cruel. And you come along being nice.”

  His gaze narrowed. “I…well, I’m sorry.”

  “See what I mean? You won’t stop apologizing.” She sobbed harder.

  “Everything can be replaced, but you’re alive. And that’s what matters.”

  “I know—but—but…”

  He handed her a tissue. “There are no buts when it comes to life.”

  She blinked. “That’s true.” She blew her nose into the paper.

  “When I was a kid my mom did something that calmed me.” He took her hand into his. Her skin looked remarkably pale against the backdrop of his tanned skin.

  What is he doing? Her bottom lip trembled and every part of her exploded to attention. “I—I don’t—”

  “No worries.” He turned her arm over and brushed the tips of his fingers over the sensitive skin of her wrist, taking on a rhythm of lightly rubbing. Her toes curled and her inner thighs quivered. The combination of his closeness and the soft massage did wonders to her body. She oozed into the bed, experiencing complete euphoria.

  “That’s amazing,” she mumbled.

  “We have lots of nerve endings in this area. Just let your body go.”

  Was this really happening?

  His soothing tone and touch seemed odd coming from such a big, brawny man. She’d bet he could wrangle a cow faster than the blink of an eye and ride the wildest bull longer than eight seconds. Yet he was gentle enough to pacify her.

  The urgency within her amplified. She wanted to fall into him and feel his strapping arms roped around her aching body—again, but this time longer.

  Not going to happen.

  It’d taken her years to build a wall of protection. No one person, no matter how kind he was or that he’d saved her, could come along and single-handedly destroy that barricade.

  Snatching her arm back, he removed his hand. “I’m okay now. Thank you.” She rubbed the skin where the heat of his touch lingered.

  “Great.” There was a new huskiness to his voice.

  Smoothing the back of her knuckles across her wet eyes, she took a deep breath. “Things could be worse. I realize you risked your life to save mine. I hope I’m not coming across as ungrateful.” Hiccup. “I’m very thankful.” Sniffle.

  He sat down next to her feet. The mattress eased under his weight and she involuntarily slid closer, her calf pressed against his hard thigh. She held her breath. “You have every reason in the world to be upset. You lost something near and dear. That’s a lot to accept in one evening.”

  She rolled her tongue along the roof of her mouth, hoping her voice would work. “I have a booked schedule for wedding cakes. My clothes, pictures, I can never get back. I’m homeless. Unbelievable.”

  The curtain rustled, and Deckland groaned. He quickly stood up as if they’d been caught doing something dirty.

  He had guilt written all over him. Apparently, the massage had him worked up too.

  The doctor, a tall, balding man with kind eyes, looked at each of them. “I’m Dr. Jones. You must be Mr. Matthews?” The doctor stuck out his hand and gave Deckland’s a swift shake. Elsa noticed that he opened his mouth as if to correct the doctor, but it
was too late because the moment was lost. Dr. Jones was already facing her. “Mrs. Matthews, you’re a lucky woman. Your lungs are clear, no broken bones, nothing major. You have a slight concussion on the back of your head, but it’ll heal in a few days. It’s important you get lots of rest until then.”

  Relief spread through her, almost pushing out the idea of her name being linked with Deckland. “Does that mean I can go?”

  Dr. Jones took out a pen and pad from his side pocket. “You’re free to go. I’ll prescribe you something for pain, just to be on the safe side. You’ll be on restrictive duty for a couple of days, which means no driving, no heavy lifting, no hikes in the mountains. Let your husband help you so you’re not up and moving too much. Looks like he’ll have no problem carrying you.”

  Averting her gaze so that she wouldn’t accidently make eye contact with Deckland, she thought it was best not to inform the doctor that Deckland wouldn’t be carrying her anyplace. But would Deckland correct the doctor? If Dr. Jones was told she didn’t have anyone to help her, or that she didn’t have a home to go to, he might decide to keep her in the hospital. That couldn’t happen. She had too much responsibility waiting—too many obligations.

  “I’ll make sure she gets lots of rest,” Deckland said.

  Her heart missed a beat. At least he was going along with the misunderstanding.

  “Good then. I’ll have the nurse write your discharge papers and you’ll be on your way.” Dr. Jones patted her knee. “Take good care of her,” he said to Deckland.

  “I’ll certainly try.” He winked at Elsa. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t lift a finger.”

  Sweat beaded between her breasts.

  Once Dr. Jones was gone, she sighed. “He thought you were my husband. I guess I should have told him the truth.”

  “Why?”

  “He thinks you’re going to take care of me. That’s too much for me to ask.” Beep. Beep. There went the blood pressure cuff again.

  “You didn’t ask. I volunteered,” he said.

  “But…but…” What could she say? She could think of far worse things than being Deckland’s wife—pretend wife.

  “Do you have anywhere else to go? You said you’re homeless.” One thick brow lifted.

  She swallowed the quarter-sized lump in her throat. “Maybe you could point me in the direction of the closest hotel.”

  “That’d be an hour away.” Her stomach did a funny loop. “But my place is much better…and cheaper. Not to mention I’ll be at your beck and call.”

  Every cell in her body zinged. A naughty image came to mind involving Deckland doing the massage-thing on other areas of her body, especially around her inner thighs. “You really want me to come stay at Brooke Creek Ranch?”

  “Yes. I have the space.” Not an ounce of hesitation.

  “I can’t let you do that—”

  “You’re not ‘letting’ me do anything. Again, I’m volunteering.”

  “But why?”

  “Do you always ask so many questions?” He scratched his jaw.

  “Yes, when I’m curious. No one just offers something without expectation.”

  “I’m not offering because I have some covert plan to take advantage of you. It’s called generosity, Elsa. Y’all may not have that where you’re from, but welcome to Texas where hospitality is alive and well.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  DECKLAND PULLED OUT of the hospital garage and headed south for home, along with his passenger who had her head against the seat and her gaze concentrated on the dark scenery. He knew he’d caught her by surprise when he’d offered his home to her. Hell, he’d even shocked himself with the outrageous suggestion.

  He guessed he could have driven her into San Antonio, found her a nice place to stay and been back at the ranch before sunrise, in time to start his chores. He could have even called April and Dante to ask if she could stay at the farm, maybe even Peyton and Dillon. After all, they had plenty of room and, from what he understood, April, Peyton and Elsa had become good friends over the last few months.

  Truth was, he was a gentleman—and real men always helped a woman in need, and it had nothing to do with the needling attraction in his gut.

  Sure, there was no reason to deny he found her attractive. What man, straight or otherwise, wouldn’t appreciate her striking eyes, upturned nose with a faint scattering of freckles and perfectly shaped lips? And her scent—wow—was that caramel apple? Even the smell of burnt wood couldn’t mask it.

  Glancing across the seat, his chest tightened. She hooked him in an odd way, not to mention she was a hot mess. Her wild hair framed heart-shaped face, red-rimmed eyes and dirt-smudged cheeks. Had her pale skin ever seen sunlight?

  Her clothes were filthy and ripped. She even had some drops of his blood on her shirt.

  What else was he supposed to do besides help her?

  He’d wanted to make it clear that he didn’t lay out the welcome mat because he had expectations, especially along the lines of rekindling the kiss from two months ago that had practically knocked his boots into yesterday.

  Hell, he could see how a beautiful woman like Elsa could mistake a man’s generosity for stupidity. She probably had interested men coming and going.

  As much as he appreciated her beauty, he wasn’t about to risk being revved up just to be turned down again. He knew when a woman was off limits, and Elsa had obvious red flags and neon signs of warning.

  He’d do what he could for her, send her on her way then forget the lure between them—at least on his part. He had a good feeling the attraction was one-sided.

  He inhaled sharply, and his nose hairs singed. He certainly didn’t smell like a sweet treat. A hot shower to wash the dirt and smoke from his body was in order and then he’d call it a night.

  When they pulled into the ranch, he parked the truck in front of the house and slid out. By the time he’d rounded the front, ready to help her, she was already out and standing by the sidewalk.

  “Welcome to Brooke Creek Ranch,” he said.

  “Thank you again for inviting me here. I’ll be out of your hair in a few days, just like we discussed.” Her voice was soft and quiet, pulling every sentimental string in his body.

  “No worries.” He opened the front door and stepped aside so that she could pass. “Sorry to say that although we have enough bedrooms to host a soccer team we only have one bathroom. With a house full of men, we never needed a second. As kids, my brothers and I would hose off out back before we came in. Mom tried to teach us right, but she finally gave up and realized there was no hope for proper etiquette when it came to her sons.”

  A smile curved her lips. “I’d beg to differ. I can wait for a shower. You go first.” She scanned the assortment of family pictures hanging on the wall.

  “Ladies first. We have plenty of hot water. I’m sure you’re wanting to wash the day’s events off. Unless you’re telling me to go first because I stink as bad as I think I do.”

  “No. You don’t stink.” A twinkle lit her eye but didn’t last long. “Thank you again for asking me to stay.”

  He shoved his hands deep into his front pockets, feeling like a schoolboy at his first dance. He wasn’t sure why he had a nervous gut. A simple little kiss had never thrown him before, and he’d kissed more than a few willing females over the years.

  “Promise me something.” He needed to clear the air.

  “What is it?”

  “No more thanking me, you hear? I’m only doing what anyone else would. Make yourself at home.”

  The tip of her tongue darted out and swept across the curve of her bottom lip. “Okay, I’ll stop thanking you, but I feel I owe you a world of gratitude. You’ve gone above and beyond what a stranger should to help.”

  “You don’t know me very well, sure, but again, I wouldn’t say we’re strangers.” The faint red appearing in her cheeks told him she knew what he meant. His zipper stretched, as it did every time he thought about that night. He’d never forget ho
w she looked wearing a sky blue sundress, long blonde hair falling like silken waves down her back and her tight bottom moving against the fabric as she’d neatly arranged cupcakes. The evening ended with the kiss that still crept into his dreams.

  He ticked his gaze over her now. At five-foot-two and one hundred ten pounds, he knew this because he saw it on her hospital chart, she’d blow away if a swift wind came along. The dark circles rimming her eyes remained from the first time he met her.

  “I guess I’m not used to everyone’s kindness around these parts. Your family has been beyond generous.”

  “You should stick around and get comfy with the helping hand,” he said with an ounce of hope.

  With a slight shrug, she pointed to the picture of him and his brothers when they were kids. “Raising three strapping boys must have been quite a job for your parents. It sure seems they did an excellent job.”

  Her sweet expression could have registered many dangerous physical reactions in him in any other circumstance. A man didn’t take advantage of a woman who needed assistance. “I’m sure we were the cause of many gray hairs.”

  She jetted a glance up the stairs. “Bathroom that way?”

  He pulled himself back on track. “I’ll show you.”

  ****

  Climbing out of the shower and drying off in a huge fluffy towel, Elsa stared at her discarded pile of clothes on the floor and crinkled her nose. There was no possible way she could put them back on. She’d been in dire circumstances before, and had always been one to prepare for emergencies. In the trunk of her car, she had a suitcase of clothes, but it wouldn’t do her any good tonight.

  Wrapping the towel tight around her body, she opened the bathroom door and peeked out. Deckland was nowhere in sight and the house was quiet. Earlier, as he was giving her a quick tour of the upstairs, he’d pointed to the bedroom on the right and said, “I’ll be in here if you need anything.”

  A sexy cowboy couldn’t make a delicious offering and expect a woman not to have wicked thoughts. Did he realize how he turned her inside out? A smart man like Deckland wasn’t oblivious to his good looks and charm, and she definitely wasn’t immune, even though she wasn’t available—at least not in the emotional way.