Dirty-Talking Cowboy (Kinky Spurs 1)

She sighed and glanced over her shoulder, finding Shep frowning at her. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Oh, I’m just doing the same fucking thing all over again. “Nothing.” She forced another smile, needing to think this out herself, not wanting to be influenced by him. “I needed some air.”

“Don’t start lying now, darlin’.” He moved in front of her, tucking a finger in her chin, bringing her gaze right to his. “Something’s wrong. I know that because of the look on your face right now. What happened?”

She shook her head, pulling away, hugging herself. This was less about what Blondie had said, and more about herself. God, what in the fuck was she doing? Her heart still hurt, bleeding from the damage Jake had caused. “No, really, it’s nothing.”

Shep narrowed his eyes. He dropped his hand from her chin, shoving both hands into his pockets. “Chase told me that Vicki said something to you. What did she say?”

“Nothing.” Please go. I need to think.

Shep’s nostrils flared, eyebrow arched. “Emma, let me make this perfectly clear to you. If you do not tell me right now what she told you to upset you like this, I’m going to pull Vicki aside and make a scene. There is no situation where I do not find out what’s going on.”

Stuck between Shep and no way out, Emma drew in a long deep breath. “She said that you liked your ladies, is all.” His narrowed eyes turned to slits. Emma hurried along. “It’s not something I haven’t heard before. You and your brothers have a reputation of being good with women, and that’s okay.” A vein in the middle of his forehead began to protrude. She threw up her hands in defeat. “Oh, my God, none of this is coming out right at all. Listen, you don’t need to say anything. You’re you”—she waved over him—“with all that sexiness, and you’re kinda perfect, really, so of course other ladies want you, and you might want them.” Dear God, why wasn’t she shutting up? “I’m not jealous or anything.” You totally sound jealous, you idiot. She slapped her hand over her mouth, then sighed, dropping her hand. “I’m going to shut up now.”

The intensity in his expression never wavered. He dipped his chin, bringing his eyes level with hers. “Be jealous, Emma, because don’t kid yourself. If any man in there dared to touch you, I would not only be jealous, I’d knock them flat on their ass.” He paused, and she reeled in that bit of truth before he added, “Have I fucked women who were in this bar tonight? Yes. Three of them.”

She parted her lips to say he didn’t need to explain, but he cut her off, continuing, “Did I care about them? Not in the least. Does that make me an asshole? Maybe to some it might. But I’ve never set out to hurt anyone, and if we did sleep together, it was a mutual decision. Never, not once, have I ever promised them anything after, nor did they stay in my bed, or in my arms until the next morning.”

Confused, wary, and everything in between, Emma stared at him. After all the lies with Jake, Shep’s honesty was refreshing. That’s what kept getting her caught up. He had this way of making everything okay when everything was wrong. “What are we doing, Shep?” she asked, speaking her mind.

The air between them sizzled when he closed the distance, bringing the strength of his body against hers. The power of his touch rippled through her as he cupped her face. “Whatever the hell you want to be doing, Emma, because I want to keep seeing you.” He paused, his eyes finally softening, as did his voice. “I understand being with me is scary for you. I get that. But what we have, and what you and Jake had, is different. I am different than him.”

“Are you?” That was the answer she didn’t know.

“You fucking bet I am.” Back came his stormy look, removing the usual warmth found in his expression. He brought his mouth close to hers. “That is the first and last time I will ever say it, too. One time, Emma. Only one time will I say that I have no intention of giving you up. That I’ll fight like hell to keep seeing you, because I think there is something special here between us. One time that I will ever explain that I am not like the bastard who treated you like you were something to throw away.” He tightened his hands around her face, his voice growing thick with emotion. “You said you needed time to think this all through. Take the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

For now . . . echoed around her.

Even she knew a man like Shep could only stand dealing with another man’s baggage for so long. “I’m sorry . . .” She tried to backtrack. “I know you’re not like him.”

His brows drew together with his frown. “You need to be real and honest with yourself. You might want to think that I’m not like Jake”—he leaned in and pressed a hard kiss to her forehead—“but you don?

?t believe that I’m not like him, not truly, and that’s the problem.”

His mouth dragged across her forehead, leaving a cold void when he walked away.

She stared after him walking down Main Street, leaving her alone with her thoughts and with all the things she didn’t say.

Chapter 11

Shep woke the next morning regretting that Emma wasn’t in his arms. His bed seemed empty without her, though duty called. He hadn’t been into his office since Emma’s accident. While the next contract with the army didn’t start for another two weeks, he had a pile of paperwork waiting for him on his desk, or so his receptionist had told him this morning through a text message.

Armed with two coffees he grabbed on the way, he drove the fifteen minutes from his house to Blackshaw Survival, pulling into the circular driveway at a little before nine o’clock in the morning. When he stopped next to the old stone farmhouse he’d converted into his offices, he found only one black car parked in the small parking lot. Not a surprise. When the government contract ended Shep gave his guys time off, and no one came into the office during that time. Surviving for a week in the wilderness with only the food you can gather from hunting and scouring the ground for mushrooms, leafy greens, and berries left their bodies in need of a break to strengthen again.

At one time, Shep had always gone with his team. He loved the game and the challenge. Now most of his days were planning for new contracts and holding up the business end of Blackshaw Survival. He missed the days out in the field, but he enjoyed controlling the helm of his company too much to allow anyone else to step in for him.

With a sigh, he turned off the ignition, staring out at the land belonging to his father. He’d gifted Shep the farmhouse and the land when he’d first spoken of opening his company after he moved home from Los Angeles. Without that gift, there was no way Shep would’ve gotten his business off the ground so quickly, especially since his father’s connections were what had led to the government contracts. Sure, Shep had made a good name for himself, but the Blackshaw name held power and connections with politicians in Colorado. Dad knew important people, and knowing those people had helped Shep over the years. Which only reminded him that he didn’t want his father’s legacy to burn to ashes.

Heaviness pressed against Shep’s shoulders, and he rubbed at the tension while he exited his truck. Before he shut the door, he grabbed his father’s file that Schultz had given to him and the two coffees out of the cup holders. Before anything else began today, he intended to review his father’s finances to see what could be done about Blackshaw Cattle. There had to be a way to save the company, maybe something his father had overlooked.

Thoughts of his mother filled Shep’s mind while he climbed the porch steps. He needed to see her, or at least call her, or she’d know something was going on. First, though, he needed to make sure things were squared away, and she had nothing to worry about before he faced her. His mother could see right through him.

When he entered through the black-painted front door, he was greeted by Lorraine’s warm smile. She’d been his receptionist from day one. Thirty-one years old, with a cute round face, brown, curly shoulder-length hair, and bright blue eyes, she always kept Shep organized. “Morning,” he said, moving to the reception desk, handing her the coffee. “My apologies for not being around the last few days.”

“Please, don’t even be sorry. You haven’t missed anything at all.” Lorraine accepted the coffee and winked. “But I’ll happily accept your apologies.”

Shep smiled, tucking a hand into the pocket of his blue jeans. “I take it that means there’s nothing pressing to deal with this morning?”