Her Cowboy's Way Read online

  A Chocolate Kind of Day

  Colby grabbed his cell phone from the chest of drawers and glanced out the bedroom window. Thick dark clouds swirled around a gray early July sky. The day promised to be one of those cloudy, depressing days. The kind made for grabbing his hot little wife and taking her back to bed for the entire day. She could be one delicious handful when he encouraged her to let loose her passionate nature. Lord a’ mighty, she’d almost done him in on their honeymoon in Cozumel. Almost.

  He forced the dream notion aside. He was already running late. The reality was he had cattle to move to another field and supplies to pick up in town. The damn list went on and on. Still, he strode through the house looking for Brandi. If nothing else maybe he’d sneak in a quickie before he had to head out the door. She was usually game for some impulsive playtime. Impulsive should have been her middle name. Although there were times when that wasn’t one of her good traits.

  He found her in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher with their breakfast dishes, but not paying attention to the chore. Her shoulders were tense. Something was on her mind that she didn’t like and he figured he knew the issue. They should discuss it, but he didn’t want to. Right now he was enticed by her pert backside and the way a pair of faded jean shorts fit it so well.

  Intent on the sight, he crossed the room until he stopped behind her to squeeze her bottom. So perfect, so damn tempting.

  She didn’t move away, but grumbled, “I thought you were already gone.”

  Pissy mood, not a good sign. He squeezed her butt again and then reached up to brush aside her short auburn hair, which still annoyed him. Fingering the soft strands, he recalled the impulsive and rebellious decision she’d made a week before the wedding. She had her long, wavy blonde hair trimmed and colored red. He’d been disgusted and she’d regretted her decision. After he dried her tears, they had a discussion, which had led to a spanking…that had led to….

  Led to exactly what he had in mind when he came looking for her. She stood stiff and he decided to attempt to lighten her mood. He leaned down to nuzzle the side of her neck and inhaled her familiar light floral perfume and a scent that was all Brandi. His jeans became uncomfortable in a flash.

  She had only relaxed a bit. He nibbled her ear lobe and said in a gruff tone, as he toyed with her hair. “I thought you were going to get your hair dyed back to blonde.”

  Proving he should have left the subject alone, she jerked away to turn and glare at him. “I said I would and I will. Drop it, okay.”

  He raised an eyebrow at the snap in her tone. “Still upset with the change of your plans for this morning?”

  Her lips pressed together and she huffed, “Yes. There are some good garage sales this weekend.”

  Her friend Sarah had called last night to let her know she couldn’t go today. Not that he minded his wife missing out on another opportunity to pick up more stuff they didn’t need around the house. But Brandi didn’t like it when things didn’t go her way, although eventually she adjusted. Sometimes it took a little help, like his hand applied to her butt.

  “There’s no use pouting because Sarah can’t go, sweetheart,” he said, meeting her irritated blue gaze. “She’s going to have more serious things on her mind today than buying someone else’s throw-outs.”

  “Like getting her bottom warmed, you mean? Thad could’ve waited until later, even tomorrow. After all Sarah dented the stupid fender three days ago.”

  She froze, clapped a hand over her mouth, and her cheeks grew pink. It was clear he wasn’t supposed to know she’d been aware of the incident.

  “So, you knew about it all along? Didn’t bother to tell me.” His partner, Sarah’s fiancé, had loaned Sarah his pickup truck before he went out of town to a cattlemen’s meeting in Dodge City. She’d had a fender-bender, a small one, but she’d tried to get it fixed—unsuccessfully—before he returned and then not told him about it. Thad had been furious, at the not telling him about the dent and just letting him discover it. Colby would have felt the same way.

  “She’s my friend! I wouldn’t tattle on her.” Brandi’s stubborn chin jutted out.

  “He’s my friend and he had a right to know. Now the insurance won’t pay for the repair because it wasn’t reported right away and too long a time has lapsed.” The real issue was Sarah had tried to keep the whole thing a secret.

  Brandi avoided his gaze. “She was trying to get it repaired; trying to make it so Thad would never know she’d damaged his truck. I would have done the same thing.” Again, she clamped a hand over her mouth and flushed even more.

  “Turn around, Brandi Lynn.” That was what he’d figured. Dammit. He wanted to nip this issue, and any future issue about anything to do with lying or keeping secrets, right in the bud.

  As he expected, she didn’t obey him. She was still struggling with the word, the concept. It had almost been a deal breaker on their wedding day.

  “Don’t you have cattle to move? Or supplies to go into Hinkley for?” she countered, not moving an inch.

  He wasn’t letting this go and her being stubborn wasn’t helping any. “Brandi Lynn,” he repeated, his whole body stiffening from the strain of the situation. “This won’t take long.”

  “Why are you so pigheaded determined about this? Can’t we agree to disagree?”

  “Sweetheart, I understand having your friend’s back, but you need to know when that’s a good decision…and when it’s not.” He pulled in a breath to steady his sour attitude. “You know what the real problem is, don’t you?”

  She clenched her jaw and took a second before she nodded, her shoulders slumping. “You think I lied to you, but I didn’t. I just didn’t come forth with an unfortunate bit of information. What happened had nothing to do with us.”

  “Tomato, tomatoe, sweetheart.” He motioned with a finger for her to turn around.

  “Difference of interpretation. I get that.” She shot him an annoyed look and started to turn toward the counter. “Sarah is the one who—”

  “Did wrong? Yes,” he cut her off. “Is getting her butt burned this morning, yes.” He glanced toward the counter, frowning. “Her accomplice to the crime is about to pay her dues as well.”

  She mumbled something under her breath, which irritated him even more. “I’m sure you didn’t just call me a bad name, right?”

  When she blew out a deep breath and refused to look at him, he had his answer. Sometimes she didn’t know when to pick her fights. Getting all prickly and sassy was a bad choice given the situation.

  “Just do it, okay? I screwed up and I admit it. I knew it was wrong at the time, but….” She looked over her shoulder at him, resignation in her expression. “In a way I’m glad we’re dealing with this. The burden of the secret was becoming kind of heavy.”

  Colby was proud of her for acknowledging her mistake, but it didn’t mean he was going to change his mind about this. He put a hand to her back and bent her over further. “I don’t like having to punish you, sweetheart. But what you did was unacceptable behavior. It makes you untrustworthy.”

  Untrustworthy? Now she felt miserable. Getting spanked would be bad enough, but for him to not believe he could trust her… Well, that was huge. Tears misted her eyes as she looked over her shoulder to face him. His expression held disappointment. This had to be fixed.

  It took some serious bucking up, but she shifted her gaze to the crock of utensils next to the stove. She couldn’t say the words, hoped he understood her message. He did and snagged one of the wooden spoons. Her stomach tightened with dread.

  He held it and she stared at the source of unpleasantness, swallowing hard.

  “I asked you about the dent. You told me you had no idea what happened,” he said unhappiness in his tone. “Fact is you lied to me.”

  She bobbed her head, unable to deny it. Good intentions on her friend’s behalf or not, she’d let her husband down. Made him feel he couldn’t trust her. That sickened her. She gripped the counter top on e
ither side of her and waited with her denim-covered bottom stuck out.

  If he had more time, she was sure he would have made her pull the jeans down. But his men were already waiting for him. No doubt waiting for Thad as well, because he was dealing with Sarah about now, too.

  Colby still had trouble believing she’d lied to him. She knew he hated lies, wouldn’t put up with them. Before they’d gotten married, they had talked about a lot of issues and their beliefs. There were ten years between them and differences in their maturity level. Brandi had been spoiled most of her life, disciplined, too. But even with that, she’d pretty much done what she pleased. He intended to be the best husband she could have and that included correcting her misbehaviors, helping her become more responsible for her actions. His role in their marriage wouldn’t always be a pleasant one.

  She’d promised him that she would never lie to him. Yet she had. For a friend. The excuse of it being an error of omission wasn’t good enough. Resigned to what he believed necessary, he shoved her T-shirt onto her back. “We’ve discussed the importance of trust in a marriage, haven’t we? And lying, too?” It was important to reiterate why this was being done.

  “Yes.” Her response was quiet.

  He swatted her butt once, hard, with his hand. “Abusing trust in a relationship can hurt it, drive a wedge between us. I don’t want that. You said you didn’t want that either. Right?” He held his hand still against her taut ass.

  Her buttocks clenched and unclenched. “Right. I love you, Colby. I’m sorry.”

  He treasured her words of love, but knew she expected him to take charge now. “Yet you chose to essentially lie to me.” He spanked her in a quick rain of biting smacks that stung his hand as well.

  She glanced back at him, gave him an apologetic look, and faced the counter again. “I disappointed you, let both of us down.”

  When she lowered her head, he understood that was her sign of acceptance. She was ready. He wanted this over with. He picked up the spoon he’d set on the counter and wasted no time in placing a dozen quick, attention-getting swats on her butt. Even through the denim they were hard enough that she danced up on her toes and hissed.

  He held the spoon at the under-curve of her ass, watched her tense again. He was almost done. “Ready to finish this?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, bracing her arms again.

  He almost changed his mind, but she was waiting for him, willing to accept what he believed necessary. He couldn’t let her down. Steeling himself, he landed a baker’s dozen of thirteen smacks on her wriggling butt. The final three right to her sit spot. She would think about this incident every time she sat down today.

  Relieved, he stepped back. “We’re done.”

  “I got the message,” she said on a whimper. “The spoon delivers a nasty sting.”

  After sitting the spoon on the counter, he eased her shirt back down. He shifted her around until she looked at him again, an embarrassed heat warming her face, tears trickling down her cheeks. “I love you, sweetheart.”

  Brandi blinked away tears, gave a weak smile. “I know you do.”

  The sadness in her voice drew him closer. He tugged her into his embrace, unconcerned she was rubbing her ass to ease the throbbing. He lowered his head and she met him halfway for the kiss they both wanted. Her softness got to him as it always did. The scent of her teased his senses, as did the lingering smell from their earlier lovemaking. The combination made him rock hard. But he didn’t have time to shuck his pants and take her right now, so he made love to her mouth instead.

  She appeared to forget about having gotten spanked and melted into him. That little tongue of hers slipped out and moved feather-soft across his lips. With a moan of desire, she went up on her toes, locked her arms around his neck, and gave in to the kiss. Their tongues danced and their mouths mated until they both were panting. When he began thrusting his hips forward and feared he was about to come right in his jeans, he broke away and stepped back.

  His chest rose and fell as he grabbed up deep, steadying breaths. She, too, leaned back against the counter, grimaced a second, and then sucked in air. Her eyes pleaded for more, but he shook his head.

  “I would if I could, but the men are waiting for me.” All he could do was adjust his uncomfortable jeans and head for the back door. “It’s damn hard to walk away, damn hard.”

  “Stupid cattle,” she grumbled.

  He faced her at the last minute, chuckled at her pouty expression. It was a struggle not to change his mind and just stay with her. But his ranch needed him and she had other things to do as well. “When you get over feeling sorry for yourself, you can work on the ranch books, here or at your office. Or you can paint the spare bedroom like you’ve been talking about,” he reminded her.

  When she stood there rubbing her butt, still frustrated that he was leaving, he added, “Or you can go back up to the bedroom and stay there for the day.”

  Her eyes widened. “As in you’d confine me to my room? Like a child?”

  He shrugged. “Unless you’re going to deal with your sore butt and move on that seems like a good option.”

  She snorted. “It’s not an option. I’ll find something to do.”

  ***

  By noon, Brandi had talked with Sarah and they’d commiserated over their trials with the men they loved, although Sarah had suffered much more at her fiancé’s hands than Brandi had. Still, Sarah was confined to the house they shared for the weekend. This meant no shopping together, no going to a movie together, nada.

  By one, Brandi had dusted most of the large log home and run the vacuum cleaner. She’d even tossed in a load of laundry. After that she decided to attack the storage closet, which had been stuffed to the ceiling with junk. That’s where she found the box of Godiva chocolates she’d splurged on a couple of months ago and hidden away because Colby knew eating chocolate affected her like no other sweet. She’d get a sugar rush so high she’d act like a crazy person, adrenalized into endless action. Her doctor had told her not long ago that she was entering the borderline stage of diabetes. She promised her doctor, herself, and Colby that she’d watch her diet better, especially her sugar—including chocolate—consumption. But it was a struggle.

  Feeling like a kid at Christmas, she carried her unearthed treasure upstairs to their bedroom. She sat down in the middle of the king sized bed, turned on the TV to watch a “chick flick” as Colby called the romance she’d recorded last week, and opened the box of chocolates. She would finish up the closet later. It was time to pamper herself a little, with a movie and chocolate. She’d only eat one or two pieces and her husband would never have to know. The box would be hidden once more before he returned this evening. One or two pieces wouldn’t be a big deal. It was cheating, yes, but just a little.

  ***

  Colby dragged himself into the house at six o’clock. Every muscle in his body screamed in pain. Damn runaway heifer! She’d slipped away from the rest of the herd and run like the wind. He’d gone after her and managed to get thrown off his horse when it had spotted a snake and reared up. He’d gotten his bruised body back into the saddle and managed to get the heifer back with the herd. Now all he wanted was a long, hot soak in the shower, and then he’d collapse on the sofa to watch a ballgame. He’d sweet talk Brandi into fixing him a sandwich and maybe even massaging his back. He’d told her at breakfast not to worry about fixing supper tonight because he hadn’t known when he’d get home.

  Walking from the kitchen into the living room, he stopped and gaped. What the hell had she been up to? The doors of the entertainment center were open and every one of their far too many DVDs were stacked in front of it. His golf bag sat a few feet away, something he rarely got to use. His clubs laid scattered about on the floor beside the bag, cleaning wax and a cloth nestled among them. And the storage closet was open and empty. Every item that had been crammed inside it lay around the jumble of stuff, as if someone had started sorting through it and stopped.


  Confused, he wasn’t sure how to react. Interrupting his thoughts, he heard footsteps upstairs in the bedroom, and then they moved down the hallway toward the stairs. He watched as Brandi stopped at the top of the staircase, her arms full of clothes. Then, with a muffled grunt, she tossed her burden over the railing. A rain of clothing fell to the floor six feet from where he stood.

  “Oh, good, you’re home,” she said in forced happiness, reaching to shove a lock of short hair behind an ear. “There’s a whole other pile to be carried down here.”

  Colby doubted he could even lift a feather at the moment, even if he wanted to—which he didn’t. He motioned to the scattered faded jeans, ancient T-shirts, and his old ratty-looking-but-much-loved college sweatshirt. “Just what’s going on, sweetheart?”

  She shook her head at him as if he were dimwitted. “What does it look like? I’m cleaning out things.”

  “Now? Why the hell are you doing this right now?” he grumbled, taking a second look at her. Was that a spot of chocolate on her chin? He discarded the thought.

  They’d discussed, thoroughly, how chocolate was bad for her last Easter, when she’d eaten a half dozen chocolate-covered marshmallow eggs from her niece’s Easter basket. She’d buzzed around the house after they’d come home from her brother’s like a wild bee. Searching for things to do. Cleaning kitchen cabinets with endless enthusiasm, waxing their no-wax floor with some old wax she’d found in the garage. That had been tough to get off, but necessary before it damaged the expensive new floorcovering. Plus there was the newest scare: her becoming a diabetic.

  When he looked closer, he noticed her eyes appeared more glazed than they should. Damn. He recognized the sign of a sugar high. Anger and worry battled within him. He stormed up the stairs as she disappeared into the bedroom again. She was risking her health. She could be taking years off her life and he damn well wanted her to live a good long time.

  When he entered the room, he found her bent over nose-to-floor, grabbing shoes from the closet. One glance at the bed and the crumpled candy wrappers beside the almost empty Godiva chocolate box told him she’d ignored her promise of eating no more chocolate. Fear of losing her too soon pinched at his heart. His hand itched to connect with the saucy little butt wiggling a few feet away.