Cowboy Untamed

She put down the bowls and turned to him in surprise. “But you ended up in foster care at Thunder Mountain Ranch.”

“And consequently, people think she abandoned us. Instead she was in a car accident and Rosie offered to take Liam and me until Mom was on her feet. Once she was okay, we went straight back to her. She’s terrific.”

“Does she live here?”

“Not anymore. She’s in Cody with her new husband. Liam moved there when he got the job with the rafting company. I’d left to work in Alaska, so Liam talked Mom into moving down there with him. She met John in Cody. It all worked out.”

“I can see that.” Her heart squeezed as she thought of how tough those years when his mom was laid up must have been. “I’m glad for you. When we were in high school, all I knew was that you and your brother were at Thunder Mountain. I figured the two of you had no parents, or at least none that were worth anything.”

He grimaced. “That’s the only bad thing about going there. People assume we were neglected. Rosie’s tried to set the record straight, but it’s not easy. Thunder Mountain boys are supposed to be hard-luck cases.”

“And some of them are.”

“Yeah, just not me and Liam.” He walked over to the coffeepot. “I’ll get a cup of coffee and move out of your way.”

“Will you start work on the sculpture for the event?”

“No, I’m saving that for the actual night.” He took a mug out of the cupboard and poured coffee into it. “But I need to get comfortable with the space. Liam said Rosie would love to have one of my pieces, so that’s what I’m going to make first to test the setup.”

“That’s so sweet!”

“I’m a sweet guy.” He grinned. “So if you need me, I’ll be in the back of the barn getting hot and sweaty.” He picked up his coffee and left the kitchen.

Once he was gone, she took a deep breath before turning her focus to the bowls. She’d never washed those bowls so thoroughly. She scrubbed each one until her fingertips wrinkled while she tried to blot out the image of Grady’s smile and his “getting hot and sweaty” comment. He wasn’t going to let up on her.

Well, who could blame him? Last night she’d practically shrink-wrapped herself to his body. She’d barely escaped from the parking lot without begging him to come home with her.

She’d vowed on her way here this morning that this would be a new day and she’d keep her cool. That had lasted until he’d climbed out of his truck in his work clothes. He shouldn’t have been as sexy in those as when he’d been dressed to impress, but apparently, it didn’t matter what that cowboy wore. He had only to show up and she’d respond with a rapid pulse and damp panties.

Her lusty thoughts persisted even though he’d walked to the back of the barn at least fifteen minutes ago. The clank of metal and the hiss of a torch indicated he was working while she stood staring into space and wasting time.

Before his arrival yesterday she’d thought having him in the adjoining stall would be harmless fun, a chance to prove she could flirt without getting involved. Instead it looked as if she’d battle constant temptation with no relief in sight. She’d underestimated her sex drive, as well as his.

Swearing off artists had seemed like a piece of cake when she’d been smarting from the last humiliating breakup. Then Grady Magee had walked into her life. If the gods were testing her, they couldn’t have given her a bigger challenge. He was better looking, sexier and more talented than any of the other four.

She had plans for today, though, and her wheel was waiting. Maybe once she immersed herself in the project, she’d forget that Grady was on the other side of the wall getting hot and sweaty. Yeah, right. Molding slick clay on a revolving wheel was a sensuous experience that would only make the situation worse.

One of the other co-op members was bound to come in shortly. She took courage from that as she walked down the aisle between the stalls. If she went straight into her work area without stopping by his, she might be okay.

The hissing of the torch stopped. “Is that you, Sapphire?”

“It’s me.”

“Could you give me some advice on this thing I’m making for Rosie?”

She could hardly refuse such a request. “Sure.” Besides being flattered that he’d ask her opinion, she was curious about the design. He hadn’t mentioned what he’d planned to create for his foster mother.

She felt the heat before she stepped inside the stall. He hadn’t been kidding about the “hot and sweaty” part. His goggles hung around his neck and moisture had collected in the hollow of his throat. She wanted to dip her tongue into that depression and savor the salty taste.

Or maybe she’d comb his damp hair away from his forehead and unbutton the shirt that clung to his muscular chest. Booted feet braced apart and leather gloves tucked under one arm, he studied a sketch he’d tacked to the wall that separated his stall from hers. He’d laid an assortment of metal pieces on the floor beneath it.

She stifled a groan of frustration. Knowing he was the man who’d created the sculptures she’d seen in galleries had certainly made him appealing. Yet that was nothing compared to being in the same physical environment where he labored over his art. A visceral tug of longing almost made her reach for him. She clenched both hands and fought the impulse.

Something told her he wouldn’t welcome a sexual advance right now, in spite of all the discussion they’d had on the subject. When he looked at her, his direct gaze was all business. He was in work mode. “This won’t take long, I promise. I know you have your own stuff to do.”

“No problem.” His change of mood might have insulted another woman, but not her. She understood it. He’d entered his creative zone and had channeled all his sexual energy there. As long as he was focused on sculpting, she wouldn’t have to worry about this attraction between them. She hadn’t counted on that, because it was a rare gift, but one she respected. It also might explain why Grady had achieved such a high level of success.

“I thought I knew what I wanted when I sketched this,” he said, “but now I’m rethinking the configuration. It’s wolves.”

“I can see that. Nice.” The sketch was more than nice. He’d captured maternal love so perfectly that she had no doubt it was a mother with her litter.

“I picked a female wolf for Rosie because wolves have several pups. I’ll make a bear for my mom because bears only have two.”

Talk about irresistible. Now he’d added a layer of tender consideration to his blatant sexuality. “I’m sure they’ll both be thrilled. The concepts are brilliant.”

“I don’t know about the brilliant part, but they’re logical.”

Oh, and FYI, the guy was modest. His admirable traits kept stacking up. “Trust me, both ladies will think the pieces are brilliant.”

He laughed. “They do have an embarrassing tendency to gush. Okay, back to these wolves. My sketch has six pups but I think five is plenty. Maybe I should drop it back to four.”

“Hmm.” She studied his drawing. He’d arranged the wolves so they were all interconnected and would form a cohesive sculpture. She loved the symmetry of it.

“On a practical note, I’m one short of the recycled pieces I need for the pups’ noses. I’d have to go looking for another one if I keep six, but dropping just one doesn’t feel right for the composition.”

“I’d leave them all in. You’ve already figured out how to do it, so taking one out means redoing the whole arrangement.”

“But what about the nose thing? I don’t know the scrapyards around here the way I do the ones in Cody.”

“Could you alter one of the poses so the pup has his paw over his nose?”

“Maybe.” He stepped toward the drawing. “That one. I could move the paw up without compromising the design.” He turned to her with a smile. “Great idea. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, that’ll work. Great suggestion.” He repositioned his goggles, picked up his torch and grabbed one of the pieces of metal from the grouping on the floor. He acted as if he’d forgotten she was there.

Fascinating. She’d imagined having to fight off his advances, but it seemed that when he was working, he wouldn’t be making any. That alone separated him from the other artists she’d dated. All of them, she realized now, had been easily distracted and basically lazy. They’d expected success to come to them without a whole lot of effort. They’d had ability and she’d allowed herself to be impressed with that, but ability without discipline was useless.

But comparisons to her ex-boyfriends didn’t matter, because if she did decide to have sex with Grady, that was all it would be about. She’d keep it pure so she’d never have to discover his fatal flaw and become disillusioned for the fifth time. Could she manage to enjoy the sex and keep her emotions out of it? Only one way to find out.

Walking into her cubicle, she stared at her potter’s wheel. She already had a plan for her next project, a large bowl to hold fruit. The interior would be a cool lime green and the exterior would be pale orange. She might add some flecks of yellow if she settled on the right shade.

Yesterday she’d been excited about making it, but today her thoughts were on Grady instead of the new piece that had been on the drawing board for more than a week. Several customers had said they’d buy such a bowl, so she’d already presold a few. On the other side of the wall Grady’s torch hissed, and the air was filled with the acrid scent of hot metal.

Listening to those sounds galvanized her. She’d make that bowl this morning and have a prototype for the others. Each one would be slightly different because that was her hallmark, but she had to create the first one in order to make variations on that theme.

Generally, she preferred working alone in the barn, but having Grady there intent on his sculpting kept her at the wheel longer than she’d intended. His energy seemed to penetrate the barrier between them and she experienced design breakthroughs that stunned her. The fruit bowl took on an unusual shape that dipped on one side to leave room for a cascade of grapes or a cluster of bananas. She could see that becoming a trademark of her fruit-bowl designs.