Searching For Love (Contemporary Cowboy Romance) (Carson Hill Ranch series: Book 2) by Amelia Rose
Authors: Amelia Rose
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herself when he shuddered.
“Deadly, even. I might actually die, and it would be on your conscience,” he whispered.
Carey pressed her to him, entranced by the way their bodies fit together perfectly. Even in the close quarters of his sleeping bag, he felt like he couldn’t bring her close enough, wanting to pull her even closer somehow.
He kissed her for what seemed like hours, Amy running her hands over the muscled ridges in his arms and his chest, exploring him in the darkness. She wondered at the heated softness of the skin beneath his t-shirt, tracing the pronounced muscles in his back with her delicate fingertips. She finally worked her way up to place her hands on his neck, joining them behind him and twirling locks of his luxurious hair between her fingers.
The sound of a rock being kicked across a patch of dirt nearby made Amy and Carey freeze, him putting one fingertip to her mouth as he listened. Carey looked up to see the beam of a flashlight shining across the ground in wide arcs, sweeping over the forms of sleeping cowboys. He pulled the edge of his sleeping bag up over Amy’s head, suppressing a giggle when she used the cover of darkness to place the ends of her fingers on his ribs, knowing he couldn’t say or do anything to stop her.
“Carey?” Bernard called out quietly, looking over the sleeping ranchers for him.
“Yeah, Dad?” he called out in a voice heavy with false sleepiness. Bernard turned toward Carey’s voice and approached him, stepping around different bodies in his path.
“I need you to get up and come meet me in the RV.”
“What’s wrong?” Carey asked, forgetting his romantic antics for a minute and sounding concerned. He kept the cover over Amy, but was troubled by the sound of his dad’s worried voice.
“We’ll talk when you make it inside. Hurry.” Bernard switched off his flashlight, freeing Amy to come up for air. He turned and went back to his truck without waiting for Carey to get dressed and follow him.
“Is everything okay?” Amy whispered against Carey’s neck, letting her lips pause there as he answered. Carey hugged her close, but shook his head.
“I’m not sure. He doesn’t usually do that, and he sure sounds worried. I’m sorry, but I’d better go see what he needs.” Carey unzipped his sleeping bag and helped Amy out, then followed her, shaking out his boots and sliding them over his sock feet. He kissed her passionately one last time, then took off at a light run to the well-lit truck.
“What’s up, Dad?” Carey asked, pulling the door to the RV shut after watching to make sure Amy made it safely back to where she was supposed to be sleeping.
“There’s been trouble back at the house,” the older man said darkly, anger on his face. He held the satellite phone tightly in his hand, listening for his younger son to come back on.
“What kind of trouble?” Carey demanded, immediately concerned. Only a handful of the staff had stayed behind, mostly women and older ones at that, people who had no interest in riding all day and sleeping on the ground every night. Plus, Anders had stayed behind, as usual, to help oversee the business end of things, which was good considering his health problems and his allergies, very real concerns that had plagued him since his difficult birth.
“They think Crazy Mack came out there. He started shooting up the house, screaming like…well…a crazy man.”
“Are you kidding? He shot at them? Is everyone okay?” he stormed, beginning to pace back and forth within the small space of the RV. “Who’s out there now?”
Anders’ tiny voice came through the speaker. “Sheriff Matthews came out, but Mack took off when he saw the helicopter. No one’s really hurt, but Meg had to go into town to the doctor. She cut her hand trying to clean up some of the glass but she’ll back in the morning, just had to get a few stitches. It looks like he shot out about eight or nine of the windows, and I haven’t
“Deadly, even. I might actually die, and it would be on your conscience,” he whispered.
Carey pressed her to him, entranced by the way their bodies fit together perfectly. Even in the close quarters of his sleeping bag, he felt like he couldn’t bring her close enough, wanting to pull her even closer somehow.
He kissed her for what seemed like hours, Amy running her hands over the muscled ridges in his arms and his chest, exploring him in the darkness. She wondered at the heated softness of the skin beneath his t-shirt, tracing the pronounced muscles in his back with her delicate fingertips. She finally worked her way up to place her hands on his neck, joining them behind him and twirling locks of his luxurious hair between her fingers.
The sound of a rock being kicked across a patch of dirt nearby made Amy and Carey freeze, him putting one fingertip to her mouth as he listened. Carey looked up to see the beam of a flashlight shining across the ground in wide arcs, sweeping over the forms of sleeping cowboys. He pulled the edge of his sleeping bag up over Amy’s head, suppressing a giggle when she used the cover of darkness to place the ends of her fingers on his ribs, knowing he couldn’t say or do anything to stop her.
“Carey?” Bernard called out quietly, looking over the sleeping ranchers for him.
“Yeah, Dad?” he called out in a voice heavy with false sleepiness. Bernard turned toward Carey’s voice and approached him, stepping around different bodies in his path.
“I need you to get up and come meet me in the RV.”
“What’s wrong?” Carey asked, forgetting his romantic antics for a minute and sounding concerned. He kept the cover over Amy, but was troubled by the sound of his dad’s worried voice.
“We’ll talk when you make it inside. Hurry.” Bernard switched off his flashlight, freeing Amy to come up for air. He turned and went back to his truck without waiting for Carey to get dressed and follow him.
“Is everything okay?” Amy whispered against Carey’s neck, letting her lips pause there as he answered. Carey hugged her close, but shook his head.
“I’m not sure. He doesn’t usually do that, and he sure sounds worried. I’m sorry, but I’d better go see what he needs.” Carey unzipped his sleeping bag and helped Amy out, then followed her, shaking out his boots and sliding them over his sock feet. He kissed her passionately one last time, then took off at a light run to the well-lit truck.
“What’s up, Dad?” Carey asked, pulling the door to the RV shut after watching to make sure Amy made it safely back to where she was supposed to be sleeping.
“There’s been trouble back at the house,” the older man said darkly, anger on his face. He held the satellite phone tightly in his hand, listening for his younger son to come back on.
“What kind of trouble?” Carey demanded, immediately concerned. Only a handful of the staff had stayed behind, mostly women and older ones at that, people who had no interest in riding all day and sleeping on the ground every night. Plus, Anders had stayed behind, as usual, to help oversee the business end of things, which was good considering his health problems and his allergies, very real concerns that had plagued him since his difficult birth.
“They think Crazy Mack came out there. He started shooting up the house, screaming like…well…a crazy man.”
“Are you kidding? He shot at them? Is everyone okay?” he stormed, beginning to pace back and forth within the small space of the RV. “Who’s out there now?”
Anders’ tiny voice came through the speaker. “Sheriff Matthews came out, but Mack took off when he saw the helicopter. No one’s really hurt, but Meg had to go into town to the doctor. She cut her hand trying to clean up some of the glass but she’ll back in the morning, just had to get a few stitches. It looks like he shot out about eight or nine of the windows, and I haven’t
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