“I was— What did you say?”
“That you’re like your mother. You are, you know. Now, and back then. She had a rebellious streak, too. She was just a lot better at hiding it from me. That’s how she met your father. She snuck out one night to go to a party—I’d forbidden her to go because I thought she was too young—and she danced with him and it was love from then on.”
“You never told me that.”
“I didn’t tell you a lot of things because I feared losing you the way I lost her. To your father, and then to the Lord himself when they both passed on. So I focused on all of her positive attributes, trying to give you a good role model to follow. I wanted to mold you into all of the good things your mother had been, and weed out the bad. And I succeeded, didn’t I?” She gave a sad shake of her head. “But in the process, I sucked the life right out of you.” She slid her hand across the table and touched Sarah’s. “I don’t like you like this. You used to be so happy. You used to be so alive. Even when you were facing off with me, there was this vitality about you. But now…” She gave Sarah a direct look. “You need to get a life, dear. Find yourself again. Get in touch with the old Sarah.”
The words should have sent a rush of euphoria through her. She’d longed her entire adult life to hear her grandmother say such a thing to her. To free her.
But the truth was, the girl she’d been was gone. What had started out as an act to convince everyone else had turned into a real transformation.
She was content with her life the way that it was. She wasn’t scared to live life, as Houston had said.
He was totally and completely crazy.
HE WAS TOTALLY AND completely right.
Sarah admitted the truth to herself later that night as she watched the videotape of their kiss at the wedding reception. Even then she’d been holding back, despite that she’d initiated the kiss.
She’d pulled back first, startled and shaken by the intensity of one measly kiss.
The truth was right there in the bright glitter of her eyes, in the nervous tremble of her hands, in the startled expression on her face.
She’d told herself she’d been fearful of watchful eyes. But truthfully she’d been fearful of the emotion he stirred. The want. The need. The love.
Because she was scared of taking a chance and falling all over again for a man she couldn’t possibly have a future with. He’d been her first love, and he’d broken her heart when he’d left town to pursue his dreams while she’d settled for her self-made prison right here in Cadillac, and so she’d vowed that he would be her last love. She’d shut herself off to any and every man after that, afraid to lose her heart and feel the same pain. Her good-girl image facilitated her fear. She’d been able to turn down dates and avoid relationships on the pretense that she’d turned into a wholesome girl who was saving it all for the man of her dreams.
But she hadn’t been saving it all for the man of her dreams. She’d been saving herself for a living, breathing man who also happened to be the man of her fantasies.
A man who was now very real and right here, and completely in love with the woman she used to be.
That’s what she wanted to think, but she couldn’t forget the way he grinned whenever she blushed, or looked so satisfied when she trembled in his arms, or the way he’d laughed when she’d tugged her hem down in the truck during their first delivery. He liked the good girl by his side as much as he liked the wild woman in his bed.
And she was still a wild woman, despite that she also had a safe, conservative side. She was both.
She realized that as she replayed in her mind the kiss at the wedding reception and again felt desire clear to her bones. It wasn’t the sex that had made her uncomfortable with Houston, but the way he’d looked at her during such a vulnerable moment that had frightened her. Because he hadn’t just looked at her. He’d looked into her.
She’d been afraid for him to see her feelings, afraid to feel such feelings, and even more afraid to act on them.
Afraid to take a chance and put herself out there. To trust her instincts that told her he did, indeed, love her as much as she loved him. Because if she’d trusted her gut so long ago, she would have been crushed in the passenger seat that fateful night with Sharon.
“We all make mistakes when we’re young.”
Her grandmother’s words replayed in her head.
Young. Not wild. Or irresponsible. Or untrustworthy.
But she wasn’t a kid anymore. She was a grown woman. And she was in love. And she knew just how to prove it.
“COWBOY UP!” HOUSTON signaled Hank, who sat behind a large control panel. The older man threw a switch and old Nell roared to life.
The mechanical monster jerked this way and reared that way and the young man holding tight to the cinch strap stayed on for the space of two heartbeats before flying through the air and landing smack dab on his back.
“That was good, Eli,” Houston said as he walked over and extended a hand to the young man from a nearby ranch who’d turned out for the first official Bull Riding 101 class given at the Double H Ranch— Hank’s place had been renamed to reflect Hank and Houston’s new partnership.
It had only been two weeks since Houston had made his proposition and put up the capital to renovate the large barn, but already word had spread like wildfire. They now had twelve wannabe rodeo stars perched on the corral fences, eagerly awaiting the chance to ride old Nell beneath Houston’s watchful, professional eye and become the next PBR champion. Not to mention Houston had a stack of applications in his office awaiting placement on a waiting list for the next semester.
The young men, and even one young woman, came from all backgrounds throughout the county. A few were hired hands from nearby ranches, one was the grandson of Ben Skeeter, who owned the pharmacy. There were a few farmers in the mix, as well as the local senior track star from the high school. There were a few seasoned cowboys who’d been rodeoing for years now but had never worked up their courage to move on to the main event. And there was the town pediatrician, who’d always nursed fantasies of being the next Houston Jericho or Bucky Johnson, but had never had the chance to turn his dream into a reality. Until the Double H Ranch had opened up shop.
Houston had forfeited Vegas and his tenth championship in favor of moving into Miss Marshalyn’s place. Oddly enough, settling into the old house that had been his only real home as a child felt better than any eight seconds he’d ever spent on top of a foaming, mad bull. The house gave him the sense of acceptance he’d searched for most of his life.
There was only one thing that still kept him tossing and turning at night. Only one thing he truly wanted but couldn’t have.
“I tried to hold my form like you said—” Eli started, before his gaze snagged on something and he turned.
Houston followed his gaze toward the barn doorway. As if his thoughts had conjured her, Sarah stood there staring back at him. His heart stalled in his chest for a long moment as two important things registered.
She was, indeed, here. And she looked different.
It wasn’t just that she wore a pair of jeans and a fitted tank top rather than her usual conservative, drab slacks and long skirts that clued him in to the change. It was the determined light in her eyes as she walked toward him, the intensity burning bright, fully visible to anyone who might glance at her face.
The mask was gone and she was simply Sarah. As sexy as ever. As headstrong as she’d always been. And she didn’t seem to care who saw her.
She headed straight for him, past the curious gazes and toward the corral, her familiar red cowboy boots quickly eating up the distance between them.
With each step she drew closer, into the corral and straight up to where he stood with Eli.
“What happened to you?”
“I wanted you to know that I haven’t changed. I mean, I have. I don’t really feel one-hundred-percent comfortable in all of this—it’s been a long time—but there are moments when this is
who I still am.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m still a bad girl, but I have good-girl tendencies now. I have changed. I’m both now. But one thing hasn’t changed. I love you,” she blurted, despite the curious gazes trained on her. “I always have and I always will and I just didn’t have the courage to tell you. Then when I did find the courage, the time wasn’t right because I didn’t have this.” She wiggled a small box free from her jeans pocket. “I had to order it and it just came in today.”
“What’s going on?” He felt blindsided.
Without so much as a glance at the surrounding group of people, she dropped to her knees and stared up at him. “Houston Jericho, will you marry me?”
“You’re proposing to me,” he said vaguely as he focused on the box she opened and saw the gold twisted band nestled on a bed of velvet. “You’re proposing to me.”
“I wanted you to know that I’m not afraid to take chances. I’m not afraid to put myself out there. I’m not afraid to live. The only thing I am afraid of is living without you.”
Joy rushed through him, followed by a whirlwind of emotions that gripped him so intensely, the only thing he could do was pull her to her feet and into his arms and hold her so tight he knew he had to be cutting off her circulation.
But he couldn’t help himself. He was afraid to let her go and find out that this moment was merely an extension of the fantasies he’d been having every night. Hot, heated dreams that didn’t just have her warming his bed, but his heart, as well.
“Is that a yes?” she murmured into his shoulder.
“Not quite.” He set her back then because he had a proposition of his own to make. “Not yet.”
“You’re turning me down?” Her eyes went dull.
“I’m taking my turn, Belle.” And then he pulled out the small box he’d been carrying for the past couple of weeks, since the day at her shop when he’d declared his feelings for her. “I wanted to ask you a long time ago, but I didn’t think you were ready. But you’re ready now.” He dropped to one knee, took her hand and stared up into her eyes. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes.” Her full lips curved into a smile that warmed his heart as much as her nearness warmed his body. She let him slip the ring on her trembling finger. “Yes.”
And then he pushed to his feet, drew her into his arms and kissed her. And Houston Jericho knew the instant their lips met that he’d finally come home.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7266-2
THE FANTASY FACTOR
Copyright © 2004 by Kimberly Groff.
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The Fantasy Factor Page 17