by Carly Bloom
“Sit,” Maggie said. “You don’t deserve to be anyone’s dirty secret. JD is being a gigantic dick.”
Henry laughed. “Maggie said dick.”
Maggie stood. “Sometimes it’s called for.”
Without another word she stormed out the door, where she found JD standing on the porch.
“What the hell is the matter with you?”
“I’m gay. That’s what.”
Maggie made an X with her arms and imitated a loud buzzer sound. “Wrong. Try again.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I have never seen this side of you, JD Mayes, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit. You are being an awful guest and a worse host to poor Gabriel.”
JD turned, his mouth agape. “You’re upset about my manners?”
“That, and the fact that you didn’t trust me. That you hid something from me—something this big, for crying out loud. And I’m also regretful of the opportunity you just passed up with Henry.”
JD shoved the brim of his hat up. “What opportunity with Henry?”
“Henry just asked you point blank, with all the innocence and honesty of a five-year-old, if you and Gabriel are in love. And you could have said yes. You could have shown him that love doesn’t always look the same for everybody, but it’s still love. You could have shown him that it’s normal, JD. But instead, you chose to be a shamefaced weasel. And that will be what he remembers about this, probably for the rest of his life. You’d better hope that kid’s not gay.”
The red tint that had stubbornly stuck to JD’s face throughout her entire tirade drained away, leaving him pale. “It’s just that I—”
“Come inside, JD.”
Maggie offered her hand. JD grabbed it and pulled her close. “I do love you, you know.”
When they came back into the dining room, Henry was attempting to cram an entire roll into his mouth. JD sat next to him, picked up his fork like nothing had happened, and said, “Yes, Henry. Gabriel and I are in love.”
It took Henry about ten seconds to finish swallowing, but then he said, “I didn’t know I could have an abuela, and I didn’t know boys could love boys.”
“Well, now you do,” Mrs. Garza said. “It’s a good day for learning.”
“I don’t want to see any kissing, though,” Henry said. “I’ve seen enough of that today already.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Travis brought Maggie a glass of wine. She leaned against his shoulder with a soft sigh, and he put his arm around her. The house was quiet, as Mrs. Garza had taken Henry to the bingo hall, a weird Big Verde Thanksgiving tradition for a certain older crowd.
Maggie pulled her knees up and settled into him. “You smell good,” she said.
He’d put on cologne today. It wasn’t something he did very often. Just for special occasions.
“It’s familiar,” she said, leaning in to sniff in earnest.
Travis’s pulse sped up. He didn’t know if it was because of her warm breath on his neck—which felt nice—or if it was because he’d worn cologne on the night of Anna’s Halloween party.
“It’s just the cheap stuff most guys wear.” That wasn’t entirely true. It was a department store sample.
“Well, I like it,” Maggie said, nestling her head beneath his chin. “And Thanksgiving was wonderful. I’m glad you invited me.”
Travis sighed with relief. “I half expected Scott to show up. Made it hard to relax.”
“He doesn’t seem the type to drop in for family holiday celebrations. What are you going to do about him and Happy Trails?”
“Buy him out someday. Until then, I’m not selling, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. My dad set it up so that both of us had to agree in order to sell. He knew what he was doing, since Scott and I have never agreed on anything.”
“Can’t Scott just insist on splitting it in half? You each get a hundred acres?”
“Dad thought of that, too. Property can’t be split. It can be sold as two hundred acres, or not at all.”
“Scott mentioned back taxes. Have you paid that yet?”
Travis winced. “I don’t have all of it. As soon as Anna pays me the rest of my fee, I’ll have about a third of what we owe. I’ll have to see if the tax office will accept that for now.”
Maggie brushed the hair out of his eyes. It really was getting too long. He wanted to cut it and shave off the beard. Would she recognize him if he did? Now that she’d broken things off with the wolf, it wasn’t like he had to tell her about his hidden identity. Maybe he’d just keep the mop of hair and itchy beard forever…
No. Their relationship couldn’t be built on deception.
“I can’t believe JD didn’t tell me he was gay.”
“He was scared.” Travis could fully relate to being afraid of sharing a secret with Maggie. “It’s always a risk to let someone know who you really are. Most of us hide behind masks.”
“But what was he afraid of?”
“Losing you,” Travis whispered. He closed his eyes. He wasn’t talking about JD any longer. “He was afraid of losing you if you knew.”
“That’s ridiculous. I would never abandon a friendship, and certainly not over something like a person’s sexual orientation. What do I care? But the lying…I just feel kind of played, you know? He lied to me about who he is.”
The words Travis wanted to say—I’m the Big Bad Wolf—were swallowed up by the room. He could practically see them escaping through the ceiling. What would Maggie do if she found out he’d been harboring his own secret? That he’d also lied about who he is…She thought JD had played her? Holy shit. She’d go through the roof over what the Big Bad Wolf had done.
He decided to change the subject. “So how about you come over this weekend and we’ll trim the tree with Henry?”
“Are you nuts? Tomorrow is Black Friday. This weekend will be insane at Petal Pushers.”
Travis snorted. “I can’t quite picture a horde of frothing-at-the-mouth shoppers taking over Big Verde’s thriving business district. I mean, we’re talking the oil change place, Pump ’n’ Go, and Petal Pushers.”
“Make fun all you want,” Maggie said. “You haven’t seen Miss Mills when she’s got her eye on the last inflatable baby Jesus. Can we tree trim on Monday?”
“You’ve got an inflatable Jesus?”
“And three wise men.”
Travis shook his head in amazement and tried not to think about Miss Mills blowing into spouts to fully inflate three wise men. “I’m hauling some calves to market on Monday. Does Tuesday work?”
“Tuesday evening. Tell Henry we’ve got a date. And speaking of Henry, I wonder how late he and Mrs. Garza will be out? How late do bingo halls stay open? I mean, I wonder if they’ll be gone long enough for us to—”
“For us to what?” Damn, she was cute. She was panting like a puppy. “Play a game of Scrabble?”
“I’m not much for board games.”
“Well, it so happens that Henry is going home with his abuela after bingo. We’ve got the whole night. What do you want to do to pass the time? Maybe read a book?” He grinned at her. “We never finished the last one. I recall that when we left off, our heroine was in the very indelicate position of having her legs up over her head, separated by a twenty-five-inch spreader bar.”
“You must have thought a lot about it to remember it in such detail.”
“Well, you did that nifty demonstration. It left an impression.”
Maggie laughed. “I bet.”
“It probably left one on Henry’s mind, too.”
“Oh God,” Maggie said. “I don’t think he knew what we were doing.”
Travis scooted closer and raised an eyebrow. “What were we doing, Maggie?”
She started to speak, but nothing came out. He should give her mouth something to do.
He kissed her gently at first, but urgency soon took over. He wanted her on her back, legs in the air, inviting him to do w
hatever the fuck he wanted.
Go away, wolf.
Maggie broke the kiss first, but only to say, “This is so much better than Scrabble.”
Travis agreed. “Let’s go upstairs.”
By the time they got to the bedroom, he was ready to give orders. Take off your clothes. Lie down. Spread your legs. But he didn’t. That was the Big Bad Wolf’s way. Not his.
He pulled Maggie’s sweater over her head and dropped it to the floor. She stood in front of him in a red lacy bra. Again, orders bubbled up out of nowhere—Take off your bra. Push your breasts out. Twist your nipples—but he kept them to himself.
“I want to see you,” Maggie said.
“I’m right here, darlin’.”
She rolled her eyes. “Travis, take off your clothes.”
“You want me naked?”
“Yes. I want you naked. Now.”
“You’re a bossy little thing.”
If she wanted him to take off his clothes, he’d take off his clothes. But he was going to do it nice and slow. Make her suffer a little. “Okay. Sit on the bed.”
Maggie sat, and he slowly lifted his shirt, flexing to define his abs. He might have lost a little ground since settling down with Henry, but he was still in good shape—better than most men—and he knew it. Maggie stared intently at his exposed skin. Not that he let her see very much. Yet.
His jeans rode low, and he hooked a thumb in his waistband, pulling it down a little as Maggie licked her lips. Turning her on was turning him on.
He was no dancer, but he knew how to move his hips, and so he did…a little. He flexed his muscles the entire time, keeping a close watch on Maggie’s face, because if she started to laugh, it was game over.
She was not laughing.
He raised the hem of his shirt to reveal the three rows of muscles making up his six-pack. Maggie’s eyes followed the shirt’s path, leaving a heated trail on his skin. He ran his hand over the snake tattoo that coiled across his lower abdomen, and then raised the shirt higher. He stepped closer to Maggie. So close that her breath grazed his flesh. She kissed his belly, and he clenched his fists and fought for self-control.
Her fingers traced the fly of his jeans, and he backed away.
Too soon, princess.
He turned around to show off his back. Maggie exhaled a long, shuddering breath. He pulled his shirt off and dropped it to the floor. The belt came next, and he yanked it through the loops in one swift move.
“Gosh, Magic Mike much?”
Maybe he’d been a little too dramatic. He looked over his shoulder to see her grinning, but she wasn’t making fun of him. She seemed to be enjoying the hell out of herself. He unzipped his fly and lowered his jeans to mid-thigh. With his feet hip-distance apart, he pulled his underwear down and flexed his glutes, one at a time. Maggie squealed, so he did it again.
He had a dumb smile on his face now. Maybe he had a little Magic Mike in him after all.
He pulled his pants up, which made Maggie boo and hiss, and then spun around. He ran a hand over his abs and up his chest, flexing his pecs as he walked toward her. Maggie covered her face with her hands, but she peeked between her fingers.
“Travis, you’re prettier than me. There is no way I’m taking my clothes off now.”
When he was mere inches from her face, he pulled her fingers away. “Oh, yes you will.”
Maggie’s eyes went to his fly. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs and slowly dragged them over the head of his penis. Maggie licked her lips. Then she licked him.
He groaned and pulled his briefs the rest of the way down, letting his cock free. Maggie took it in her warm hands, and he watched as she slid them up and down his shaft.
“This is pretty impressive,” she said.
He just smiled and tried not to come all over her. She took him in her mouth and he had to try even harder. His eyes met hers—big and round above her sweet mouth so full—and that damn near did it. He pulled back.
“Your turn. Lose the bra.”
Maggie bit her lip and furrowed her brow. He was surprised by her shyness, until he remembered that, to Maggie, this was their first time. An uncomfortable wave of guilt crept up, threatening to ruin the mood.
* * *
Maggie couldn’t believe the gorgeous man in front of her. He was like one of those guys on a calendar—all he needed was a firefighter hat and a cute puppy. What on earth was he doing here with her? And how the hell was she supposed to get up the nerve to take off her bra? It was possible Travis’s pecs were bigger than her breasts. “I’m not much in the cup size department.”
Travis knelt before her. “You’re the perfect size. The perfect shape.”
“Do you have your contacts in?”
Travis laughed. “I see just fine, sweetheart.”
“It’s really bright in here. Maybe we can turn off the overhead light and put a lamp on. Do you have a scarf to drape over it and set the mood?”
“I’m all out of scarves.”
“Oh. Well, maybe we could—”
“You’re killing me here. How about I count to three? On three, you lose the bra.”
That might work. Maggie scrunched her eyes shut. “Okay. Count.”
“You look like you’re about to rip off a bandage.”
That was kind of like what it felt like. “No. I’m fine. Start counting.”
“One…two…three!”
Maggie tried. She really did. But nothing happened. Her fingers were frozen. What she needed was her red cape and porn star boots. Little Red Riding Hood would have no trouble losing the bra. If only she could feel that free and sexy again. But Travis was very unlikely to growl—or bark—orders at her. He was too polite. Too sweet. And she should be totally turned on by that, especially given the adorable striptease he’d performed.
“Try again,” she said.
Travis sighed. “One…two…you’re not going to do it.”
“Sorry! It’s just that you’re all—you know—Channing Tatum-ish and whatnot. And I’m—”
“Sexy. Gorgeous. Making me so hard I could die.”
“Really? Even in bright lighting?”
“Especially in bright lighting.” He traced a finger along her collarbone, leaving a trail of gooseflesh, and dragged it around the curve of her breast. “Perfection,” he whispered.
Maggie wanted to believe him. She saw his pulse pounding in his neck, watched as he licked his lips.
Slowly, she unclasped her bra and let it slide down her arms. She tried not to melt as she closed her eyes and let him look.
Warm breath brushed her skin. She shivered as his mouth covered her nipple. She was on fire. Places Travis wasn’t even touching were lit up in anticipation, and Maggie arched her back when fingertips brushed her other nipple.
She didn’t care about the bright lighting anymore.
Travis tugged at the button on the waistband of her jeans. “Let’s lose these.”
“You first.”
Without an ounce of hesitation, Travis stood. And before Maggie could snap her fingers, he was butt naked, except for his socks. And he was clearly anxious to get on with things.
“Come on. Your turn.” He pulled her off the bed with a glint in his eye. “Do I have to count to three?”
“Probably. But let me get my boots off first.”
She yanked them off. Then she looked at Travis and waited.
“One.”
She unbuttoned.
“Two.”
She unzipped.
“Three.”
Maggie pulled her jeans down, stepped out of them, and did a little dance in her red lacy panties. “Whoo-hoo! I did it!”
Travis offered her a quick high-five, then pulled her close as they collapsed onto the bed. Oh, but it felt good to have his naked body pressed against hers. She pushed on the top of his head, encouraging him to give attention to her breasts again. He seemed more than happy to oblige, and soon Maggie was floating on air, tingling
with euphoria.
Travis kissed, sucked, flicked, and grazed. Maggie writhed beneath him, willing him to go lower down her body, but not wanting him to abandon any part of her. He moved against her, warm and hard, kissing down her abdomen, paying homage to her rib cage and belly button, making her giggle with his beard. “Sorry, I’m ticklish.”
“I’m filing that info away for later,” Travis said, blue eyes sparkling. “Now, let’s see what else you’ve got for me to play with.”
Maggie couldn’t help it. Her eyes immediately darted to the long, skinny box on the nightstand.
“What are you looking at?”
Ugh! He’d caught her. And he was enjoying it.
“Nothing.”
“Are you sure? Because it appears you’re interested in that box over there.”
Play dumb, Maggie. “What box?”
Travis dragged his finger lightly down her tummy, leaving a trail of goose bumps. He followed it with his lips, and even though his beard tickled, Maggie wasn’t laughing. “You want to know what’s in that box, baby?”
His voice had gone distinctly lower, gruffer, and there was something about the way he said baby that caused her to tremble. “Yes,” she whispered.
Travis licked her just above the waistband of her panties, and Maggie could barely catch her breath.
“It’s a—”
He licked her lightly again.
“Fully retractable—”
He kissed her through her panties.
“Self-assembly—”
He licked a little lower.
“Cardboard telescope for Henry.”
What? Maggie smacked Travis lightly on the top of his head. “You big tease!”
“What did you think it was?”
“You know what I thought it was, and you’re infuriating.”
Travis pulled at the waistband of her panties. “I bet you won’t stay mad long.”
Holy cow. That beard. Those lips. That tongue. He was right. Irritation no longer registered on her radar. She just wanted him to keep doing what he was doing, only lower.