He tasted sultry, with something faintly sweet beneath the surface. Vanilla from his morning coffee? She wasn’t sure, but she knew she wanted more. He was addictive, a force larger than she could imagine, blowing into her life like a hurricane, stripping her of every careful control set around her, and her entire being burned for more.
His hand slid up beneath her jacket, and cupped her breast. She couldn’t contain the gasp of pleasure as he thumbed her nipple, sending heat cascading down her trembling legs. He swallowed her gasp with his kiss, a devastating assault that made her heart tumble. How could one man affect her like this? She could barely think over the roar of need sweeping through her, and she tightened her grip on him, pressing her body against his as he deepened the kiss—
A horn honked next to her, and she jumped, letting out an involuntary yelp. Zane caught her as she stumbled over the bike, holding her upright as a pickup truck with two men in it honked again, hooting and hollering as they waved their cowboy hats at them.
Zane grinned at her, and gave the truck a wave as it pulled into a spot on the other side of the parking lot. “Well, shit,” he said, turning back to her. “That was the best first kiss I’ve ever had.”
Lightness filled her heart, and she couldn’t help but grin back at him. “It wasn’t bad, I’ll admit—”
“Not bad?” He grabbed her wrist and yanked her against him, his eyes still hidden behind those dark sunglasses. “You better admit I’m the best damned kisser you ever had, or I’m going to maul you out here in the middle of this parking lot for all the world to see until you come clean.” His hand slipped to her butt. “‘Fess up, corporate girl. I’m the best you’ve ever had. Say it.”
She grinned, letting herself melt into him. God, it felt amazing to feel the hardness of his frame against hers. “Is that like ordering me to beg you?” she teased. “Don’t you know it takes all the romance out of it if you have to command a compliment? Wasn’t it obvious from the way I responded?”
He studied her for a moment, and then a small smile curved the corner of his mouth. “You don’t usually kiss like that?”
She gripped the front of his jacket, and tugged lightly. “Zane, I’ve never kissed like that in my life. I’m not really that passionate. I’m controlled, contained, and deeply protective of myself when it comes to men. Kissing like that…it’s not me.”
His hands softened on her hips, and he shoved his sunglasses on top of his head. His gaze searched hers, and she felt her heart tighten at the understanding on his face. “Does it scare you?” he asked. “The way you react to me?”
She shrugged. “It should, and it might later, but right now, it just…I just feel well…I feel alive for the first time in a really long time.”
His grin widened, lighting up his eyes. “Me, too.”
She smiled, then. “But I’m still not going to have sex with you tonight. That’s a different line to cross.” But even as she said the words, she knew she sounded just a little too desperate. If they’d been alone, there was no way that kiss would have ended before full nakedness had occurred. “Two rooms tonight?”
He shook his head. “Sorry, darlin’, but my place has only one bed. You’re stuck with me.”
“Your place?” She was surprised by his comment. She doubted Zane was the type of man who let anyone into his private domain. “We’re going to your place?”
“Yeah.” He shoved his sunglasses back down over his eyes, cutting off his emotions from her view. “It’s a pit. You’ll hate me after you see it.” He put his arm around her. “Come on. This place has the best burgers for a hundred miles. I’m starved.”
He made no more comments about his place as they walked inside, but he’d said enough. She’d heard the edge to his voice, and she knew he was dead serious when he’d said she’d hate him once she saw his place. If he was so sure of that, why was he taking her there? Another test? Or maybe, he was as afraid as she was of the direction this thing between them was going. If she hated him after she saw his place, then neither of them would have to worry about what was happening.
She kind of hoped she hated it.
And she really hoped she didn’t.
Chapter 8
Zane slowed the bike as he neared the old warehouse on the outskirts of town. When he saw the familiar sight that he’d been so proud of, he felt something sink deep in his gut, and regret and failure dug into his heart.
He paused the bike in the middle of the road. For the first time in the two years since the place opened, he didn’t want to go in there. How the hell could he walk in there again?
“Is everything okay?” Taylor rested her chin on his shoulder, looking past him, her arms still tight around his waist.
Her voice wrapped around him, jerking him back to the present. He looked down at her hands locked around his waist. Her fingernails were painted a pale pink, so light he could barely see it. She was wearing a ring on her right ring finger, an antique-looking design with a pale blue stone in the middle. It looked like something she’d picked up in a thrift store, not at a fancy department store counter, but he was willing to bet it was real, not some fake shit that was supposed to look like it cost thousands when it was actually worthless.
She squeezed him lightly. “Zane?”
“Anyone you know ever die?” he asked, still not driving forward.
“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “Mira’s parents were very dear to me, especially her dad. My parents weren’t around much, but her dad took care of me. I was devastated when he was killed in a car accident.” Her voice was soft, but steady. “It’s horrible when you lose someone you love.”
“Yeah.” He took a breath. “You ever fail anyone?”
She was silent for a moment. “Yes.”
“Who?”
“My ex-husband.”
She’d been married? Jealousy surged through him, a sudden, inexplicable hate toward the man who’d once been lucky enough to see his ring on her finger. “I doubt you failed him,” he said, his voice harsher than he’d intended.
“I did.” She shifted behind him, and he felt her lean her forehead against the middle of his back between his shoulder blades, like she was trying to hide from the memories. “It sucks.”
“Yeah, it does.” Suddenly, going into that building didn’t feel so overwhelming. He wasn’t the only who’d failed someone. Taylor understood. He was suddenly damn glad she was there with him. He revved the engine, and rode forward, turning into the parking lot behind the metal building.
He parked on the far side, not in his usual spot, then swung his leg off the bike. Taylor was still sitting on the bike, watching him. The ends of her hair were peeking out from the bottom of the helmet, and he could see a thin gold necklace resting on her collarbones, just visible under the edge of her jacket. The big helmet made her look tiny, and utterly feminine. Shit, he liked seeing her on his bike, which was weird, because he didn’t let anyone near his bike. “You want to come in with me?” He hadn’t intended to bring her inside, but now that he was here, he didn’t want to go in alone.
She unfastened the helmet and pulled it off, glancing at the weary-looking warehouse. “What is it?”
“A place.” He took the helmet from her and hung it from the handlebars. “No one will bother it here. They know my stuff.”
“A place?” She swung her leg off the bike. “Did anyone ever tell you how uncommunicative you are? I mean, seriously. A place? What kind of answer is that?”
He caught her wrist and pulled her over to him, framing her face with his hands. “I need to kiss you.” That was the only warning he gave her before he kissed her. He didn’t ask this time, because he couldn’t afford to give her the chance to say no. He did need to kiss her, more than he could ever articulate. He needed to feel her against him, and he had to taste her, to lose himself in her kiss, before he faced what was inside that building.
She responded without hesitation, her body melting against his as her arms slipped a
round his neck. Her lips were as silky soft as they’d been the first time he’d kissed her, and it felt like his entire soul stilled the moment he tasted her. Her body felt surreal against his, warm, pliable, and curvy in every place he could have dreamed of. He slipped one hand under her jacket, sliding up her spine to her shoulder blades. She wasn’t bone-skinny, like some of the women he was used to avoiding. She had a real body, with actual curves, and her breasts were the right size for her frame, not a pair of huge knockers that would give a man a black eye if he wasn’t careful.
Maybe she was used to a life on airplanes and shit like that, but she was more real than any person he’d met in a long time. Kissing her seemed to chase away the darkness that had haunted him for so long, because he knew she was kissing the man she’d just met, a man she knew only in the present. She had no idea who he’d been his whole life. She simply saw him for who she’d seen these last few days, and he liked that. He liked that a lot.
He liked the fact that she didn’t date, and he liked being the one who’d broken through her walls. Shit. He liked everything about her, including having her tongue tangled up with his, and her nipples crushed against his chest.
Keeping one hand splayed over her upper back, he slipped his other hand into her hair, weaving his fingers in the soft strands, tugging lightly as he deepened the kiss. A need to claim her began to build inside him, a need to declare that she was his, to trap her against him so that he never had to worry that he’d look over and find her missing.
“Zane!” A familiar voice broke through the haze of the kiss, and he swore, jerking his hand out from under her jacket.
He kept his arm around her, however, as he turned toward the building. Approaching them was a familiar guy in faded jeans, old cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat that had seen better days. Just seeing the old man made Zane’s jaw tighten. Jesus. He didn’t know if he could do this. “Ross.” He inclined his head.
“You heard?”
“Yeah.” Of course he’d heard. That’s why he hadn’t been back. “Sucks.”
“Yeah.” Ross searched his face. “You okay? This happens sometimes. You can’t blame yourself. We do everything we can.”
Zane cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, I take responsibility.”
Ross sighed. “Zane—”
“This is Taylor Shaw,” he interrupted, not wanting to have that conversation. “Taylor, this is Ross Stevens. She’s from out of town.”
Ross tipped his hat to her. “Nice to meet you, Miss Shaw.”
She smiled at him, warm and genuine. “Taylor,” she corrected. “Just call me Taylor.”
He grinned. “Then you need to call me Ross, young lady.”
Taylor smiled wider, and Zane tightened his arm around her shoulders. “Ross it is, then,” she said. “What is this place?”
Ross glanced at Zane. “He didn’t tell you?”
“No, he’s being completely uncommunicative, as usual. You know how he can be.” She said it cheerfully and intimately, as if she’d known Zane forever, not just a couple days. But she was right on target, which made Zane grin.
Ross laughed. “Yeah, I do.” He held out his arm. “Would you like a tour, Taylor? I’ll show you everything Zane has never told you about himself, the shit he should have known I’d spill if he brought you here.”
Taylor glanced at Zane, and he realized that, somehow, she understood that something was going on, something that was affecting him, and she was checking to make sure it was okay if she accepted Ross’s offer. She was putting him first. Shit. He didn’t even know what to say, so he just shrugged.
She smiled, then turned to Ross. “Give me a tour, then, Ross. I’m in.” She took his arm, and then held out her other hand to Zane. “I want both of you to escort me. It will fulfill my childhood fantasy of feeling like a queen.” There was laughter in her eyes, and Zane couldn’t help but grin as he walked up and held out his arm for her.
She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, and let the two men escort her toward the building. “I could so get used to this,” she announced. “Two devastatingly handsome cowboys all to myself.”
Ross grinned, his leathery face creasing. “If Zane ever treats you badly, you come knockin’ on my door, and I’ll beat the hell out of him.”
She laughed, her delight making Zane grin despite the foreboding pressing down upon him. “I’m sure you could take him down, Ross,” she said. “But I don’t think I need to worry about that.” She glanced at Zane. “Zane’s a far better man than he thinks he is.”
He could tell she meant it. Something shifted inside him at her words, and his smile was real as they walked into the building.
***
Taylor wasn’t sure what she’d expected to see inside the decrepit warehouse, but a gleaming new, full-sized basketball court, a computer center, extensive free weights, and a library complete with couches and a dozen bookshelves weren’t top on the list. She was even more surprised to see the cavernous space being used by an assortment of boys, ranging from scrawny six-year-olds to beefy older teens who were well over six feet tall, and who looked more than a little dangerous. She saw tattoos, earrings, scraggly facial hair, and tee shirts packed with more attitude than she’d encountered her entire life. They were bold, arrogant, and absolutely lost at the same time.
For a moment, she stared in shock at the boys, then tears sprung to her eyes before she could catch herself. She jerked her eyes off the kids and looked at the ceiling, clamping down on sudden onslaught of grief, longing, and sadness. Dammit. Usually, she was okay with kids if she knew she was going to encounter them, but she hadn’t prepared for children, especially not ones who were so obviously in need of someone to care. She bit her lip, fighting back emotion. God, she had to pull herself together. It was just the sight of a few kids. She was way overreacting, even for her, at least given how much time had passed since the days of her broken dreams.
“Welcome to the Garage.” Ross swept his hand out. “This place used to build and service farm equipment, but now we try to keep kids out of trouble. There’s not a lot to do in these parts, so we try to give them a chance.”
Taylor took a deep breath and focused on Ross and Zane. This was about them, not her. “This is what you do when you’re not at the ranch?” She asked Zane, and then her heart seemed to freeze when she saw the look of raw anguish on his face as he stared across the warehouse. The pain in his eyes jerked her out of her own melodrama and twisted at her heart. Instinctively, she wrapped her hand around his arm, trying to support him. “Zane? What’s wrong?”
He didn’t answer, and she tore her gaze off him to try to ascertain what had caught his attention so ruthlessly. On the other side of the basketball court, a boy was leaning against the wall, staring at Zane. He looked about fourteen years old, all bones and ratty, baggy clothes. His eyes were big and dark, sunken into the shadows on his face and his arms were folded across his chest. His dark hair was a little long, and even the light brown tint to his skin couldn’t hide how pale he looked. He looked lost and so much younger than his years.
“Shit,” Zane muttered under his breath.
“Talk to him,” Ross said. “You have to do it. He needs you to do it.”
The other kids saw Zane, and he got some shouts and waves that were clearly very enthusiastic, and he acknowledged them, but he never took his gaze off the boy by the wall. “I don’t know what to say,” he said, his voice strained.
“It doesn’t matter. He just needs to hear something from you.”
Zane’s face was pale, but he nodded. He glanced at Taylor. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” She squeezed his hand, her fingers drifting off his as he walked away. The basketball game stopped as he neared the court. The boys swarmed him, all of them talking over each other in their attempts to get Zane’s attention. He took the time to acknowledge all of them, but the boy on the other side of the court continued to stand silently, waiting. “What’s going on?” she asked Ros
s.
Ross sighed. “One of the kids Zane had been working with died a few days ago. He got in trouble with some kids, some shit went down, and he wound up dead. Zane had been trying to get him to spend more time here, but he wasn’t interested. This place wasn’t his thing, but Zane thought he could help him.”
“Oh, no. How awful.” Now she understood Zane’s earlier question about whether she had ever failed anyone, and she knew who the funeral was for. He blamed himself for the death of that boy, a devastating burden that he was carrying silently. Her throat tightened, and tears burned at the back of her eyes. Her own trip down self-pity lane seemed so pathetic now, in comparison to what Zane was going through. “And the boy over there?”
“Luke? It was his older brother, Brad, who was killed.”
“Oh, God.” As she watched, Zane made his way over to the boy. Luke turned his back on Zane and walked away. Zane’s hands clenched, and for a moment, he hesitated, then he followed the boy, clearly talking to him. Luke stopped, his arms still folded across his chest, his back toward Zane. He cocked his head, however, clearly listening to Zane, even though he wasn’t facing him.
“Zane started coming by a year ago,” Ross said. “He’s made a big difference for the kids. Zane’s not some big star trying to throw some charity their way for PR purposes. He was them, when he was younger. He lived their life. They know that, so they listen. Zane paid for the basketball court to be built indoors. He wanted them to be able to play even during the winter. Before that, they just played in the dirt parking lot.”
Taylor’s throat tightened as she watched Zane and Luke. There was so much tension in both their bodies, so much distance between them. “Zane was homeless? Poor?” She’d seen only evidence of family and love on the Stockton ranch. What else did she not know about him?
A Real Cowboy Rides a Motorcycle Page 8