Read Online Rodeo Nights by Patricia McLinn - Free Book Online Page A

remembered Pammy, the unglamorous daughter of a stock contractor who adored Sailor with every fiber of her being, yet accepted being his sole unmarried female “buddy.” “How is Sailor?”
    Finished trying on, she opened the curtain as she stacked her selections and folded or hung the rejects. She’d decided to wear jeans and the rose shirt.
    “He’s fine. Finally got smart.” Walker resumed his position against the frame. “Opened his eyes and saw what he had in Pammy and married her seven years back. Two kids and a third on the way. Sailor’s settled down. His winnings bought a couple radio stations in Texas, so he’s using his gift of gab for something more’n charming ladies.”
    Two children and a third on the way...That could have been her and Walker. Kalli put on a smile. “Sailor settled down? How in the world did that happen?”
    He straightened. “You ’bout ready? Jasper oughtta be here any time.”
    “Yes. I sure hope Jasper will take a check for all this.” Her gesture encompassed five shirts, three pairs of jeans and a denim skirt.
    “And this one.” He added the jade pleated-yoke shirt.
    “No. It’s not practical, Walker. You were right. I need clothes that can stand up to the rodeo. But this is dressy. And I have plenty of dressy clothes.”
    “Then I’m getting it for you.”
    “Walker, no—”
    “I’m getting it for you.”
    “If I want it, I can afford it. You don’t have—”
    “I may not have a high-power job, but I can afford a damn shirt.”
    She put a hand to his chest, instinctively trying to soothe his harshness. The gesture seemed to shift his mood. He put his hands on her shoulders, not gripping, just smoothing over the fabric of her shirt. His voice dropped and slowed to his usual deliberateness.
    “Dammit, Kalli. I couldn’t get you things before. Not even what you needed. I’m buying you this.”
    “Walker.” It wasn’t a protest this time.
    He ran his hands down her arms to her elbows, then up again. Through the fabric that covered it, the heat of his chest seeped into her palm.
    “Let me give you this, Kalli.”
    The shirt was forgotten. There was only Walker. The boy she’d worshiped. The young man she’d loved. She moved her hand higher, so cloth no longer separated her palm and his skin. Heat seemed to leap from him, firing her blood.
    He stepped in, one hand moving to cup the back of her head.
    In the first instant, his lips on hers felt strange. But it was only a flash, immediately lost in heat, in sensation’s explosion as his mouth pressed against hers.
    “Walker.” She managed the word of caution; he made it something else. Sliding his tongue inside her mouth, he opened her to deeper expressions of need.
    She stepped back under the onslaught of emotion, but held on to his shoulders, as if he might not follow. He did. That first step and then a second, pressing her against the smooth cool surface of the mirror. He slipped his arm behind her, drawing her tighter and tighter against his body.
    Her hands reacquainted themselves with the curve of his skull under the thick hair, the harsh bones of his jaw, the width of his shoulders, the line of his collarbone, the power of his back.
    They kissed and kissed again. Moving, adjusting. Exploring faces and throats, only to return, hungry mouth to hungry mouth.
    Not as if the ten years had never existed, but as if they were being relived through these kisses. Kisses of discovery. Kisses in the pouring rain. Kisses lit by the sun. Kisses of apology. Kisses in celebration. Kisses in consolation. Kisses to shut out the cold. Kisses heated from the fire that flared from one to the other. Kisses started in anger and pain. Kisses ended in joy.
    Kisses almost desperate with loss.
    She felt the growing tension in him. She knew what was coming. She knew... Yet, when Walker pulled away from her, she couldn’t stop a whimpered gasp at the coldness. His hands gripped her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length.
    He