by Lynn Collins
She cheered along with the crowd at Jesse’s ninety-three score. The trio watched the rest of the riders, but even Taylor knew Jesse had clinched the win. She finished her beer just as Jesse slipped onto the bench next to her.
“Did you watch, or hide your eyes behind your hands?” Jesse handed long necks down the row. Barb waved hers off. Jesse cocked his head, examining her face. She flushed under his scrutiny. “Fine, don’t tell me. It just means more beer for me.”
Taylor took the offered bottle, cold and icy in her hand. “I watched. You’re pretty good.”
Jesse held a hand to his heart. “Faint praise. I’ll die if you don’t tell me how amazingly awesome, I was tonight.”
“Does it say rodeo groupie on my forehead?” Taylor asked.
Hunter laughed. “Get him, Taylor.”
Barb leaned against her husband and watched Taylor and Jesse. “You two fight like an old married couple.”
Jesse shook his head. “This isn’t fighting, Barb, it’s the courting ritual. She’s into me.”
10
After they left Barb and Hunter at the rodeo, Jesse and Taylor drove across town to find dinner. Taylor groaned when he pulled the car into a steakhouse parking lot. “Sorry, I know we had steak last night, but the food’s great. There are just not a lot of choices out here. This place does a mean mahi mahi fish taco if you want something different.”
“It’s fine.” Taylor got out of the car and waited for Jesse on the sidewalk. “You forgot your hat.”
He took her arm and led her into the restaurant. “I’m off duty, so it stays in the car.”
“Jesse, hold on a second.” Taylor paused at the door. She searched his face, looking for an answer without asking the question. “Is this a date?”
His face didn’t change, no flicker of amusement or horror. He put his hand on her arm. “Do you want it to be?”
She hesitated, her brain shouting no. But something else shouted yes. The question was whether it came from her heart, or her body. Did it matter?
“Relax, I didn’t ask you down here for a quickie. I think we need to talk about us.” Jesse waited.
She nodded. “Okay, then.”
The hostess led them to a secluded table near the window. “Our soup tonight is clam chowder. Our special is stuffed pork chop.” She sat the menus on the table and left.
“My flight leaves tomorrow at noon.” Taylor studied the menu.
“I’m heading out about around the same time. Barb has me scheduled for interviews first thing in the morning, so no getting me drunk and taking advantage of me.”
Her head shot up. Jesse wasn’t looking at her, his head bent, studying the menu. She looked around the room and lowered her voice. “I didn’t get you drunk.”
“If that’s your story,” he said, looking up and grinning at her. The waitress arrived with water and took their drink order.
“Iced tea with lemon,” Taylor announced. The two beers at the rodeo had already loosened her tongue too much. Soon, she’d be telling Jesse about her childhood and the numerous summer camps she’d attended. And how she was plotting with Mike to keep him from buying the gallery.
“Root beer for me.”
They gave the waitress their food order as well. When she left, the table fell quiet.
Taylor set down the knife she’d been playing with. “Root beer?”
He shrugged. “I like it. What can I say? I’m a simple kind of guy.”
She studied the man sitting in front of her. “So, you got me here, what did you want to say?”
The direct approach surprised him, she could tell. But he pulled himself up, squared his shoulders, and started. “I like you, Taylor. I mean, you’re smart, funny, absolutely gorgeous, and I like spending time with you. You’re the first thing I think of when I get up and the last thing I think of before I go to sleep.” He paused and a sheepish smile crossed his face. “Not in a dirty way. Well, maybe a little.”
She slapped his arm. “Jesse, you were winning points until that last bit. You need to learn when to shut up.”
“Barb tells me that all the time.” He grabbed a roll and tossed it to her. “Eat, you’re grumpy.”
“I’m not grumpy,” Taylor said. She cut open the crusty warm bread and slathered butter on the inside. She took a bite, and watched as Jesse did the same with his roll. She thought about her conversation with Barb earlier. “You and Barb are close?”
“Yeah, but not in that way, if you’re wondering. I had a huge crush on her when we were in high school, but she was older, and she and Lizzie, that’s my brother’s wife, were friends.” He finished the rest of the roll in one bite. “She always saw me as James’s little brother—even years later. Someone burned her bad, so for years, I don’t think she even dated.”
“Then she met Hunter, and he swept her off her feet?” Taylor asked.
“Kind of. She and Hunter have an interesting story. You’ll have to ask her to tell you someday.”
Taylor lifted her eyebrows. “You could tell me.”
He shook his head. “Not my story to tell. Just wanted you to know that there wasn’t ever anything going on between me and Barbie.”
Taylor thought about Jesse’s declaration. When the waitress brought their dinners, a T-bone for Jesse, salmon for her, she took a bite, and then set her knife and fork down next to her plate.
“Uh oh, this can’t be good.” Jesse eyed his steak, then matched her movements and set his own flatware on the table. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“You think we should date?” She knew she was being blunt, and maybe obtuse, but the more direct she was, the better answers she got. Good or bad.
Jesse nodded his head and his lips curled into a grin. “Yep. I think we should date. Like tonight. Dinner, maybe a walk by the river, maybe a kiss.”
“There’s a river here?”
“You’re missing the point. And I was making that part up, so I don’t really know if there’s a river. I would like to court you, Miss DeMarco.” He reached over and took her hand. “What do you think? Are you even remotely interested?”
She felt like laughing, crying, or screaming “Yes!” But Mike’s face kept popping into her mind. And visions of the gallery. Her gallery. She wanted to be the owner, not just another manager, easily replaced. But that was tomorrow’s worry. Tonight, a handsome man was interested in her. And she would enjoy the ride until it came to a screeching halt.
“I am interested, Mr. Sullivan, providing we take it slow, one day at a time.”
“You make me sound like an addiction.” Jesse picked up his knife and fork, slicing into the meat. He stabbed a piece onto his fork and showed her the gentle pink inside. “Perfect, medium-rare.”
She took a bite of her own dinner and wondered about her choice of words. Being near the man made her feel higher than any alcohol. The feeling was more intense than the time she had her appendix taken out and they sent her home with hydrocodone for the pain. Eventually, she stopped taking the pills. They invaded her dreams, making her run from nightmare monsters and painful emotions. Yes, being around Jesse Sullivan felt like a drug. And if she wasn’t careful, she’d be homeless and out of work, like many of the addicted.
Jesse loved watching Taylor. The way she ate. The way she walked. And most importantly, the way she gave in to emotion when she laughed, her head thrown back and her entire body a part of the experience.
He hadn’t known exactly what to say when he invited her to fly out for the rodeo. He just knew that there were too many miles between them, and he felt the distance like a concrete wall blocking their progress.
With dinner finished, he drove them back to the hotel. His room was on the same floor as Taylor’s, so he walked her to her door. She swiped her card into the mechanical lock multiple times, with no luck. Stepping closer, he took the card from her. Putting two fingers on her chin, he pulled up her head and brushed the hair out of her face. He dropped his head down to meet hers and kissed her.
Slow and soft, his body reacted to the possibilities. He pulled away, finding her as breathless as he felt.
“Let me get that door,” he said, his voice husky, betraying his desire. He swiped the card again, and this time the light turned from amber to a bright green. He opened the door for her and handed her the key.
“Come in.” She took a step in, hesitating. “If you want to.”
Jesse stood there and looked at her body. “You haven’t heard a damn thing I’ve said all night, have you?”
“Of course, I have.”
He followed her into the room and watched as she tried to pull her boots off. He walked over and kneeled in front of her. He slowly pulled off one boot, then the other, his hand tracing imaginary lines down the inside of her calves. “I don’t think so.”
“What? What are you getting at?” Her voice sounded slightly tense. He smiled and looked up at her.
“I want to be here. To be with you. Why is that so hard to understand?” He sat next to her on the king size bed.
“I’m needy, what can I say?” Taylor laughed off Jesse’s question.
“I doubt it.” He took her hand, kissing the palm. The heat of her body next to his made him shiver. “You are amazing, successful, and beautiful. I don’t think you need anything. I just have to make you want me.”
“Hold up, cowboy.” Taylor stood and walked away from the bed. Leaning against the dresser, she crossed her arms. “What happened last night?”
Jesse leaned back on the bed. “You’re kidding, right?”
Her face flushed. “Stop playing games. Did we sleep together, or not?”
Jesse held out his hands. “Come here.”
Taylor looked at him like he was holding a live snake. “Jesse…”
He interrupted her, “Just come closer.”
Hesitantly, she walked to him and he took both of her hands in his. He stood to meet her. “We did sleep together last night.” He saw her cringe, but pushed on anyway. “Only sleep. I didn’t want our first time to be alcohol induced. I want you to want me, not just drunken sex.”
The relief on her face almost made him laugh, but a part of him wondered why it would have been so awful for her. He released one of her hands and caressed her cheek with his fingers.
“I didn’t remember,” she admitted to him. “If you haven’t guessed by now, I’m a control freak and it scared me that I didn’t remember.”
“And that’s why you came today.” Jesse tucked a wayward strand of her blonde hair behind her ear.
“One reason.” She searched his face. “I don’t know where this is going.”
“Do we have to know tonight?” He tipped his head and let his lips gently touch the curve of her neck. He felt her shiver.
“One day at a time?” she asked breathlessly.
He spun her around and they fell on the bed. “One moment at a time.”
Their gazes locked, and when she nodded, he kissed her. Hard and demanding this time. Her lips were like diving into a shimmering pool on a hot summer day. Pulling back, he ran his hand down the curve of her cheek. The curve he couldn’t seem to get right, even after drawing it over and over. He felt his body tighten as he looked at her. Right then, he knew if all he had was this one time, it would all be worth it.
He felt her hands unbuttoning his shirt as he focused on her neck, drinking in the smell of her—clean, floral, and all Taylor. He’d know if she was in a crowded room just by the traces of her scent that followed her as she moved. He moved his hand to her shirt; the small pearl buttons made his fingers fumble and slip inside, feeling the lace of her bra. Soft pillows of flesh greeted his hand and he groaned, his mouth still on her neck, vibrating the skin under his lips.
When Jesse awoke later, it was still dark and he felt Taylor’s legs pressing in against his hips. She’d climbed on top of him. He reached for her, pulling her down into a kiss. And they made love. Again.
11
This time, Taylor was the one to slip out of the bed, grab her clothes and her suitcase, and practically run to the elevator. She finally took a breath when the doors closed without Jesse’s hand slipping in and preventing her escape.
She wasn’t proud of her actions. When she woke up to feel his arm draped around her, she had to run. The echoes of him whispering her name in her ear as they fell back asleep after round two haunted her thoughts. She had to get away. Before she let her heart speak and say stupid stuff. Like, “I love you, Jesse.” Or, “Stay with me.” He didn’t want forever, not with her. No matter what he said, or what Barb claimed. One moment at a time had been enough. He’d agreed to her statement. And now, she felt like the fool. The very unprotected fool. Why hadn’t she left him in the hallway? And why, oh, God, why, hadn’t she insisted on a condom? This was not the way Taylor DeMarco acted. Ever.
A taxi sat outside the hotel and she slid into the back. “Airport.”
“No problem. What airline?” The taxi driver, a young woman with her hair cut short, asked as she started the engine, glancing in the mirror.
“United.” Taylor didn’t want to meet the girl’s eyes. She didn’t want any human contact to break her misery. She just wanted to leave and forget about last night’s pleasure. The feel of his chest as she ran her hands across that tan, muscular body. The feel of his mouth against hers. The feel of his mouth on her neck, her breasts, her…
“You here for the rodeo?” The driver’s voice broke into Taylor’s memory and she swallowed before answering.
“Seeing a friend,” she said. Which was true, and not true at the same time. When Jesse arrived back in town, she would simply explain that gallery business had called her back. As the soon-to-be new owner, he should understand. After that, she’d just have to keep from being alone with him. Ever again. She couldn’t be one of Jesse’s girls. Not a stop on the rodeo trail. She had responsibilities. She had the gallery. Or at least she hoped she had the gallery still.
Taylor pulled out her blackberry and thumbed through her e-mails. When she found one from Brit, she opened and read the short message.
Reading the words aloud, she frowned as the implication sunk in. “Found the contract on your desk. Dropped it off at Mike’s, so one less thing for you to hurry back to finish. Have fun!”
Jesse’s contract had been filed as her own. She hoped Mike wasn’t in the office on Friday. She dialed his work number, but of course he wasn’t in at—she glanced at her watch—five a.m. on a Saturday. The beep sounded and she left the lawyer a message. “Hey, don’t file that last artist agreement. We need to make some changes.”
Then she called Mike’s cell and left the same message. She hoped he would answer, but maybe he slept more than she did.
Slipping away from Jesse without saying goodbye, she might be able to explain away. Stealing his first artist contract, that would be harder. Taylor watched as the road turned from city to desert as they headed through the outskirts of town toward the airport. She should turn around. Grab some coffee and donuts and pretend like she was just going for breakfast.
With your suitcase in tow? How would you explain that? You were afraid he’d try on your clothes? She stared at her reflection in the window. No, she’d already gone too far to go back. Even if she regretted the impulse to run. Now, later, and probably forever. The cab slowed next to the curb and she gave the driver a twenty. Waving off her change, Taylor opened the door and strode to the ticket counter, hoping for an easy transfer to an earlier flight.
Three hours later and she was home in Boise. Taylor dropped her suitcase into her trunk, turned the car left instead of right toward home, and drove to Eagle where her favorite hot springs spa was located. She knew the owner and hoped there was at least one room available. She wanted to hide. Hide and enjoy the services of Sally’s best masseuse. She tossed her phone into the passenger seat. She’d turned off the cell as soon as she climbed on the plane. No use answering right now, not until she got her head straight. She’d turn it back on Monday. If she decided to go i
nto work. The gallery was dark on Mondays, so technically she wouldn’t be missed unless she didn’t show on Tuesday.
But Brit would know. Taylor usually did payroll and the majority of paperwork on Mondays. Most of the time, Brit came in to help, or gossip. Mostly to gossip.
She couldn’t worry about that now. All she needed to do was get Jesse Sullivan out of her brain long enough to make some intelligent decisions. Decisions that weren’t based on how amazing he’d made her feel last night, or how soft his caress had been. She’d had lovers in the past, she wasn’t a saint. But she had never made love before. The experience with the other men had been sex. Fun, mind blowing sex.
Last night with Jesse, she’d felt a connection. More than just their bodies joining.
Being with Jesse overwhelmed her senses. She felt like their limbs had melted into each other, becoming one. She pulled her suitcase out of the trunk and stared at the cottage-style building situated close to the Boise River. Now she definitely knew that she needed some perspective. She was talking gibberish, like she was feeling a strong emotion. Like she was feeling love. For Jesse. She’d met the guy less than a month ago, so at the most, she was in lust. Not love. She decided her first stop would be the spinning room. She’d work this feeling out on a bike. And if that didn’t work, she’d run.
She didn’t want to think about what she’d have to do after running if Jesse Sullivan stayed in her head.
Two days later, Taylor snuck into the gallery, well rested with her head on straight. She felt ready to deal with all the bull crap.
As soon as she walked in, Brit crossed the lobby to greet her. She took her arm and whispered, “Where have you been?” When Taylor hesitated, Brit took Taylor’s purse and straightened Taylor’s suit jacket. “Never mind. You can tell me later. You have a visitor in your office. I offered him coffee, but he declined.”