Embracing Hope (Cowboys of Sagebrush Rose #5)

Chapter Seven

Unsure that telling Isaac about her book was a good idea, it was too late to ponder it because the cat had been let out of the bag, and Hope couldn’t take the news back. She guessed she was tipsier than she thought.

“A tell-all?” He lifted a brow.

“Yes, but embellished to make for a great novel.”

“Something tells me you haven’t shared the news with your family.”

Clearing her throat, she explained, “That’s where things get a little messy.”

He shook his head. “Secrets only snowball.”

“So you say.”

“Damn. That’ll be an interesting conversation.” He steered with one hand and placed the other on the console between them. He had nice big hands and she craved to have them on her. Drinking made her horny. Hell, Isaac made her horny.

It only made her angry that she felt rejected by him.

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“Who am I going to tell?” He chuckled.

She eased back into the seat and shifted her chin to look at him. “I feel like I’m fraternizing with the enemy.”

He flicked his gaze in her direction. “I’m not the enemy.”

“One, you’re here to explore why Marcum Livestock shouldn’t merge with Sagebrush Rose instead of why we should merge the two businesses.” She lifted her pointer finger. “And you have the attitude of a stubborn old mule.” She lifted a second finger. “Then there is the small pesky matter about you rejecting me.” He veered the truck off the road and slammed on the brakes, spraying gravel and dust into a cloud. “What are you doing?” she said once she’d uprighted herself.

“Do you always talk too much?” He scrubbed his hand down his jaw. “Do you know what your problem is?”

“No, but something tells me you’ll fill in the blanks.” She tilted her chin in challenge.

“You're so used to getting your way that you can’t see outside of your bubble. Guys do flips to get your attention and then drool when you give them a little attention. Have you ever had any man who didn’t want to jump in the sack with you?”

“Are you referring to yourself in that statement?”

He blew out a long breath. “Yeah, we took things from zero to a hundred in one night, but that was before—”

She swallowed hard. “Before what?”

He stared through the window for three long seconds before landing his sober gaze on her. “Before I got to know you,” he said.

The sting of his words sunk deep into the center of her bones. “So once you got to know me, you no longer wanted me sexually?”

“Wow. You do love to twist my words and torment me, don’t you?” He shook his head. “I’m saying, sure, I only expected to have a one-night thing with you, but there are some women you can’t just stop at one. Like a potato chip. You can’t just eat one.”

“And now you’re comparing me to a potato chip?” She raised her hands in frustration “You have the communication capability of a five-year-old.”

“I’m fucking this up.” He blew out a long breath. “I’m not always good with my words regarding these issues. You’re intriguing and beautiful, and any man would be lucky to have you in his life. You deserve someone who wants to be in a relationship.”

“And you’re not into relationships,” she muttered, more of a statement than a question.

“If only.”

“What makes you so sure that I want a relationship? Don’t assume I want to be in one any more than you do.” He looked at her in such a way that made her ask, “What?”

“Consider the business implications of this situation. Mixing work and pleasure is never a good idea.”

“It’s a little late for that.”

“Neither of us was aware of who the other was.”

“You don’t always play by the book, do you?” She flicked up a brow.

“Didn’t you say yourself it’d never happen between us again?”

“A girl reserves the right to change her mind.”

He chuckled. “Bad idea.”

“Is it?” She lifted herself and slid over his lap, straddling his hips. She pressed her hands against his shoulders and looked at him. There was an undeniable connection between them. She sensed that he felt it too, but he couldn’t allow himself to face the facts. “Adults can separate sex and relationships. Two people can have sex without a relationship.”

His head was against the headrest and he stared up at her, his eyes glazed in the light of the dashboard. “This could get messy and I don’t like messy.”

“Maybe you don’t know how to handle a woman like me.”

“You certainly are…different.” He tangled his fingers in her hair.

She felt the growth of attraction in his pants and she gyrated her bottom against his hips. Goosebumps scattered her skin and her pulse quickened. The windows fogged, which made everything more intimate. Like they were the only two people in Sagebrush Pine awake at that hour. The scent of masculinity clung to his clothes, evoking something primal inside her.

Despite the multitude of rumors that had been told about her, she’d never been wild and dated man after man. She’d always been a bit shy compared to her sisters, especially when it came to dating and seduction. She’d learned early on that she didn’t have to do much to gain attention, so Isaac was a breath of fresh air.

Feeling arousal growing between her legs, she leaned in and whispered, “I can fuck and keep things secret.”

His massive erection stretched his zipper. She remembered how large and capable he’d been. How’d there been a sensuality in what they shared.

He curled his fingers into a tight fist, tugging at the roots of her hair and eliciting another round of goosebumps.

“Have you ever behaved a day in your life?” he said in a husky tone that made her squirm slightly.

His chest rose and fell. They were in a cocoon in the truck, and emotions swirled around them like a warm, comforting blanket.

“And what’s the fun in behaving?” Her heartbeat was in her throat.

“You’re a fire that only a rare few can tame.” He pulled her face so close that she thought he would kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her.

“Do you think you have what it takes?” Suddenly, the electrical charge had become a magnetic force. She was so wet she wondered if she soaked through into his jeans.

“Not only do I know I have what it takes, I can also say that I’m not fucking you here. And not when you’re drunk.” He kissed her forehead and removed his hand from her hair.

Humiliation coursed through her.

With a grunt, she slid off him and settled her bottom back into the passenger seat. A cocktail of anger and embarrassment made her sit there quietly, simmering.

He reached across her, grabbed the seatbelt and dragged it over her body. The clicking of the lock sounded loud to her sensitive ears. She refused to meet his gaze although she could feel his stare.

“Don’t sulk,” he said.

She wanted to unleash on him, but instead, she continued to keep her attention steady on the darkness on the other side of the window.

At this point, she’d rather go home and ease her need with her favorite toy. She’d get more emotion from the “rose” than the cowboy sitting next to her.

He settled back into his seat and pressed the gas, pulling back onto the country road.

She had half a mind to plunge her hand between her legs and take care of her need right there in his seat. Wonder how he’d feel about her leaving her calling card on his leather? The idea made her laugh.

Nothing about the situation was humorous. He seemed to enjoy pulling her close before jerking the rug out from underneath her. Obviously, she was wrong to think he felt the connection like she did.

Out of her peripheral vision, she could see the granite set of his whiskered jaw. He held tightly to the steering wheel, and his knuckles were white. His hardened gaze stayed focused on the road ahead. So, why did he appear like he was as affected as her?

As if she silently said his name, he turned his gaze on her. The tight lines of his gaze made stark in the green halo of the light. “I’m different, Hope. I don’t just want what’s between your legs. It’s good enough to make most men crumble to their knees, but I can’t just jump into something.”

“What do you want from me? There are times you look at me like you want to ravage me, and other times I can’t see past your wall.” She covered her legs with her skirt.

“Don’t do that on my account,” he muttered.

“You’re not going to answer my question?” She refused to let him off the hook.

“Fuck if I know.” He rubbed his temple.

“Really? You don’t know?” Something akin to uncertainty flooded her. Why did she need this man’s validation? Why did she feel rejected?

“Yeah, I sort of do,” he said in a muffled tone. “Hope…”

“Isaac?”

“Is it true that your father is forcing you to marry?”

She gasped. “That didn’t take long.”

“Well?” He twisted to look at her again.

She couldn’t lie to him. “It’s true.”

“Is that what this is? You’re looking for a husband, and I fit the bill?”

His words were so absurd that she laughed. “You've got to be kidding me. Is that what you really think? That I'm trying to catch myself a husband?"

“I only heard that tonight from one of the crew. Is it too far off mark that I might think that’s what’s happening here?”

“Trust me, I’m not on the prowl.”

“No?” His attention was back on the road.,

“No,” she stated firmly. “You wouldn’t be my pick even if I were.”

“So a man like Wren is more your pick? He seems like a real tiger.”

“To be perfectly honest, he does have good qualities. He is successful. Charming. Stable.”

“And you’re not interested.”

“Did I say that?”

His granite glare blazed a hole straight through her. “Then why not make him your husband?”

She sighed in boredom. “Unfortunately, he’s a wet rag in the bedroom.”

Isaac made a growling sound. “Poor Wren.”

“I wouldn’t know, but I’ve heard a rumor. My friend told me she had more fun getting a Brazilian wax than getting into bed with Wren.”

The conversation quieted down over the next few minutes.

Every warning sign steered her to the exit door, but she had so many questions she wanted to ask.

“So how does someone become anti-committal? Did you have your heart broken?” She glanced over at him.

His chest lifted and fell as he came to terms with her question. At first, she thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he said in a gritty tone, “Not in the way you think it was broken.”

She shifted so that she could see his profile. “Then how?”

“Something happened. In Iraq.” He stared straight ahead.

She laid her hand on his hand. “I’m a good listener.”

His arm flexed under her touch. “It’s not an easy story to tell.”

“The hard ones never are,” she said.

“My team was on a mission. Our orders were simple. Take the target.” The words tumbled from him in an even tone, which she doubted he felt inside. “We found him in an ungoverned village. I had the target in my crosshairs, but I waited for a clear shot. There were kids everywhere. I allowed my conscious to get the best of me.” He shook his head as if trying to dislodge the memory.

“Did you shoot him?” She kept him talking.

“The shot was mine; I failed.” Isaac shifted uneasily. “The target ordered an explosion, and fire spread through the village. Women and children were hurt. My unit and I…we tried…”

“Oh no.” She brought her fingers to her lips trying to stifle a moan. “Isaac, I’m so sorry.”

He nodded. “If I had only taken the shot.” He pounded the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. “If I had done my duty, those villagers would be alive.”

She moved her hand to his bicep. “But it’s not your fault. You were keeping the kids safe.”

He looked at her hard. “It doesn’t work that way. I had a responsibility and I failed.”

The emotion in his voice made her chest ache. His internal pain seemed to pour out. She stayed quiet, allowing him to continue.

“That memory plays through my mind on an endless loop—no beginning or end. Some days, I want to be alone to lick my wounds in private. At night, I’ll wake up drenched in my sweat. The sounds…” He gave his head a shake.

“That incident…that’s why you don’t want a relationship?”

His exhale was ragged. “How could I ever bring somebody into my life and ask them to face this with me?”

She felt his pain. “The right person will not only face this with you, but they’ll be there to listen and to help.”

His raw chuckle surprised her. “You say that, but the first time they wake up in the middle of the night to a man shaking and imagining that he’s in some desert, their tune would change.”

“Have you tried?”

“What?”

“Have you tried? You did sleep with me all night and you didn’t wake up having a nightmare.”

His jaw flexed. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep with you. I was exhausted. The alcohol also helps me sleep better. Unfortunately, it’s only a temporary solution.”

“Is that how you were injured?”

He nodded. “I wonder each day how I made it out.”

Hope realized that his issues all stemmed from the pain of guilt. He had shared something deep with her, and she felt like she needed to reciprocate in some way. “Since we're being vulnerable and open, I have something to tell you. Daddy has cancer,” she blurted.

Isaac dropped a hand to his thigh. “Cancer?”

Although she felt relief revealing her father’s illness to someone, it also scraped away the protective wall she’d built. Tears filled her eyes but she blinked them away, searching for strength. “Daddy has always been a force to be reckoned with. Strong and powerful.” Her words trailed off.

“That’s why he’s not been around?”

“He’s refused treatment and is staying at the family cabin in the Catskills. He is fishing, hunting, reading, and doing all the things he never got to do while he was healthy because he was always working.”

“He doesn’t want anyone to know about his illness?”

“Daddy’s a private person. He doesn’t like everyone knowing his business, or seeing him as weak.”

“I totally understand.”

She pulled the ends of her hair over one shoulder. “Do you?”

“Of course. I’m not without compassion. I’m sorry. I need to ask, where does that leave you?”

She smoothed her palms down her skirt. “Regarding marriage or the ranch business?”

“Both.”

“I either marry or I…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Lose your claim on the ranch.”

“Exactly.”

“Are you willing to give up everything?”

The question made her feel like she was walking a tightrope. Whether she wanted to face the truth or not, she had a decision to make. Could she give up everything she worked for? She loved the ranch. It was her home.

“I don’t think I can give up everything. That ranch is as part of me as my heart is,” she admitted.

“Now I see why you were working your magic around Wren.” Isaac chuckled.

She playfully swatted him on the shoulder. “I refuse to marry a wet rag.”

“Can I ask a favor? Can I take a shower at the farmhouse?”