by Marin Thomas
Sex would only complicate their relationship. Sex led to expectations. Commitment. Taking the other person into account when making decisions. Right now Sierra only wanted to worry about herself.
She finished her shower and wrapped herself in a towel. Once her skivvies dried, she’d slip on her street clothes again. Sleeping in jeans and an itchy turtleneck wouldn’t be comfortable, but there was a price to pay for having too much fun. Tightening the towel she slid beneath the bed covers and turned on the TV. In a matter of minutes, she became engrossed in a cooking show and lost track of time.
A knock on the door startled her. “Just a minute!” She crawled from the bed, adjusted the towel then checked the peephole. The image in the hallway was bleary. “Beau, is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
Keeping the safety latch secured she peeked through the open door. The two-inch gap provided enough light for her to make out Beau’s features.
She opened the door and he stepped into the room and secured the locks. When he turned around, his eyes widened. Sierra backpedaled until her legs bumped the mattress, then she tugged self-consciously at the edge of the towel.
“I don’t have a change of clothes with me,” she mumbled. Beau attempted to look away, but his gaze strayed to her and Sierra silently cursed the tingle that raced through her.
“I asked the front-desk clerk for toothbrushes and toothpaste.” He moved closer, tossing the travel-sized toiletries on the bed along with his duffel, then he set the fast-food bag on the table in the corner. “I carry a change of clothes with me when I rodeo in case—”
“You end up stranded in a motel room with a woman?”
“Something like that.” He removed a pearl-snapped dress shirt from the leather bag and held it out to her. “This might be more comfortable to sleep in.”
She clutched the material to her chest. “Thank you.”
His mouth curved in a lopsided grin. “The shirt will look better on you than it does on me.”
Sierra slipped into the bathroom, buried her nose in the cotton material and inhaled. The garment smelled like detergent and a little like Beau’s sandalwood cologne. The shirttail ended an inch above her knees and covered all the important body parts. When she stepped from the bathroom she caught Beau in front of the heater, her pink panties dangling from his finger.
“Forget something?” he asked.
She snatched the silk from him and returned to the bathroom. A moment later she joined him at the table where he’d set out their food. “Thank you for picking up dinner.”
They ate in silence, Sierra amused by Beau’s intense interest in the cooking show. “You can change the channel, if you’d like.”
“Doesn’t matter to me.” He crushed his hamburger wrapper into a tiny ball and tossed it inside the food bag before digging into his fries.
Finished with her meal, Sierra escaped to the bathroom to brush her teeth. When she came out, Beau was sitting on the end of the bed. “My turn?” he asked.
“It’s all yours.”
After the bathroom door shut, Sierra climbed into bed and turned down the volume on the TV, preferring to listen to the sound of the shower and fantasize about Beau’s naked, wet body. For someone who wasn’t planning on any hanky-panky tonight she was torturing herself with X-rated images. She pulled the blanket higher as if it would smother the smoldering desire building in her body. To make love with Beau or not…Sierra was debating the issue when he stepped from the bathroom wearing a skimpy towel around his waist.
“You okay?” He stopped next to the bed. “You’re turning blue.”
Sierra gasped, unaware she’d been holding her breath. Good Lord, Beau’s naked chest was all muscle that rippled when he moved his arms. Her gaze followed the line of hair that ran down the middle of his chest and disappeared beneath the edge of the terry cloth. Her eyes drifted lower, skimming over the body part she knew from experience was as impressive as his chest.
Then he turned away and she hissed when she noticed the red-and-purple welt above his hip. “What happened?” She gently brushed her fingers over the swollen mark.
“The bull’s hoof caught me.”
“Shouldn’t you see a doctor?”
“It’s just a bruise.”
His answer rubbed her the wrong way. “So you can tell me what I should and shouldn’t do, but when someone gives you advice you discount it and do what you want?”
He frowned.
Sierra got to her knees on the bed and pointed her finger. “You might as well get it off your chest.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You disapproved of me drag racing today.”
The muscle along his jaw bunched but Beau held his tongue and that ignited Sierra’s anger. “You think you know what’s best for everyone but—”
“I don’t take stupid chances.”
“I wasn’t taking a stupid chance. People drag race all the time and I had an instructor. I followed the rules and—”
“Ran the damned car off the track.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “You could have been seriously injured.”
She scoffed. “I hit a pile of rubber, and I wore a helmet and a safety harness.”
“The car could have flipped over.”
She sprang from the bed and paced across the carpet. “You’re making a big deal out of it.”
“And you’re not making a big enough deal out of nothing.”
A glare-down ensued. “You make me so mad I want to pull my hair out,” she said.
“You make me so mad I want to kiss you.”
They shouldn’t. Not when they were angry. Not ever. Beau’s towel slipped lower on his hips and Sierra sucked in a quiet breath.
Make love with Beau. She winced at the voice in her head. You both want it.
There was no mistaking the desire flashing in Beau’s eyes.
It doesn’t have to mean anything.
Her frustration with Beau taunted her to see how far she could push him, as if the exercise was sensual foreplay. “You owe me an apology,” she said.
He crowded her space, his clean scent going to her head. “If anyone should apologize, it’s you for making people worry.”
“I didn’t ask you to worry about me.”
“Too bad. I can’t help it.”
They stood toe-to-toe, his hot stare breaking through her defenses. “And I can’t help this.” She curled her hand around his neck and brought his mouth to hers. The kiss was hot and wet and wild. Her fingers dipped beneath the edge of the terry cloth and gently caressed his injured hip. She thought she heard Beau groan as she loosened the knot at the front of the towel. Bingo! The covering fell to the floor.
No turning back now.
“You look damned sexy in my shirt.” He nibbled her neck.
“And you,” she whispered. “Look sexy wearing nothing.”
He released the top snap of the shirt and kissed her exposed flesh…popped open the next snap…another kiss…on and on until he set her whole body on fire.
“Leave the light on, Beau.” This would be the final time they made love and Sierra wanted to experience every detail. One day she wouldn’t be able to see Beau at all, so tonight she’d use all her other senses to commit him to memory. His taste…texture…scent…the sound of his breathing…then, when her eyes saw nothing but darkness, she’d recall this moment with Beau and remember it in vivid color.
Beau didn’t care if they made love in the dark or bright sunlight. He didn’t need to see Sierra’s face to know she yearned for his touch. Her short gasp when he cupped her breast told him that she loved his hands on her. She curled a leg over the back of his thigh, aligning their bodies intimately and he groaned in her ear then sifted his fingers through her hair, messing the silky strands. He buried his nose in the scented cloud and walked her backward to the bed. “You smell incredible.”
Her nails scraped his thigh, the tickling sensation intensifying his arousa
l. Her touch electrified his skin and he burned for her. Forget slow and easy.
They tumbled to the bed in a no-holds-barred race to the finish line.
* * *
THE REPETITIVE CLICKING sound coming from the room heater pushed its way into Beau’s subconscious and he slowly awakened. His arms automatically tightened around the warm, naked body snuggled against his side. Sierra.
He smiled in the darkness. He and Sierra should argue more often if their spats ended in lovemaking. He found it incredibly sexy that she was a hellion in the bedroom and prim and proper in public—every man’s fantasy wife.
Wife.
Wife meant marriage. Marriage meant a lifetime commitment.
He cared for Sierra a great deal and admitted his heart was heading full-steam ahead toward a deeper, lasting emotion. There was much he admired about her—the strength and courage she’d shown in the face of her parents’ deaths. Moving her life to Roundup and starting a business. And what man wouldn’t admire a woman with phenomenal cooking skills?
Beau even admitted—reluctantly—that he respected Sierra’s stubborn pride. Yet, if he was honest with himself, he’d admit that being with Sierra scared him. Pressure built inside his chest, making it difficult to draw a deep breath. He didn’t want to have this conversation with himself, but the voice in his head insisted.
Sierra’s going blind.
That didn’t change the way he felt about her.
How will you feel ten or twenty years from now, when Sierra needs a seeing-eye dog and she can no longer drive or manage the diner?
Beau yearned to believe he’d adjust to her needs as the eye disease progressed.
What if you don’t?
His chest ached when he considered how worried he’d been after his father had informed him that Jordan had been unable to contact Sierra. If he thought she was vulnerable now… Beau pressed his lips together, picturing a future with him hovering and Sierra frustrated by the boundaries he’d insist on setting for her—for his own sanity. And what about the times he couldn’t be with her…couldn’t warn her of impending danger?
He thought about his goal to win an NFR title. How would he handle being on the road and not knowing what Sierra was doing or if she’d gotten herself into a situation where she needed help? Rodeo took every ounce of concentration he possessed. Would concern about Sierra’s safety lurk in the far reaches of his mind each time he climbed onto the back of a bull?
Would his constant worry wear them down and ruin their relationship? He didn’t want Sierra waking up one morning and resenting him and the stranglehold he had on her.
Don’t forget children.
What about his desire to be a father? Did Sierra want children, knowing she’d be blind one day? Beau thought of his brother, Duke, and his cousins who were starting families of their own. He didn’t want to be left out of the experience. If he persuaded Sierra to have children, was he up to the challenge of taking on the child-rearing responsibilities she couldn’t manage on her own?
He pondered the amount of time and energy parents invested in caring for their children. How would he manage if he had to help out more than most fathers?
“Beau…?” Sierra’s lips brushed against his neck and he shivered.
“Shh…” He didn’t know who he’d shushed—the pessimistic voice in his head or Sierra.
“You’re squeezing me too hard.”
“Sorry.” Beau relaxed his hold.
Like a gentle breeze, her sigh floated past his ear, the sound blowing away his negative thoughts, leaving only a raw desire to make love to her again. He rolled Sierra beneath him and kissed her, not caring if she tasted his desperation. He lost himself in her scent, feel and taste, each kiss and caress marking her as his, as he sought reassurance where there was none.
* * *
IN THE AFTERMATH of their lovemaking, Sierra listened to Beau’s breathing transition from ragged to even and knew the moment he’d fallen asleep—the heavy weight of his arm relaxed across her chest, constricting her breathing. Carefully she moved his arm aside, slipped from the bed and retreated to the bathroom. After wrapping a towel around herself she sat on the edge of the tub and rested her face in her hands.
Was she crazy?
Don’t answer that.
Why couldn’t she have been stronger and resisted Beau? Now he was likely to believe he’d earned the right to tell her what to do and interfere in her life.
There would never be a better time in her life for exploring the things she’d always dreamed of doing, but Beau was like a big, tall boulder standing in her way.
* * *
AS FAR AS morning-afters went, Sierra and Beau’s wasn’t a big deal—at least that’s the attitude she tried to convey. Sierra used the bathroom first, then watched the local news while Beau finished dressing. When he emerged from the bathroom, she said, “Sunny skies for the next few days and the roads are clear.” She checked the time on her cell phone. “If we hurry, I can make it back to Roundup by nine.”
“While you were in the bathroom earlier, my father called and invited us out to the ranch for brunch,” Beau said.
“That was nice of him, but I have to get to the diner.” Sierra didn’t care to explain to anyone her spur-of-the-moment decision to drag race.
“Jordan made arrangements for Irene to work the whole day.” Beau brushed a strand of hair from Sierra’s cheek, his finger lingering against her skin, stirring her arousal. “We can spend the afternoon together,” he said.
Sierra didn’t want to take advantage of Irene, especially when she’d need her employee’s loyalty in the future when Sierra’s vision worsened. She cringed as she pictured herself struggling to find her way around the kitchen, experiment with new recipes and keep tabs on the diner’s finances.
“I can’t take the day off, Beau. I’ll phone my aunt on the way to Roundup and let her know I won’t be coming.” The disappointment on Beau’s face almost made Sierra change her mind.
He caressed her cheek, tilting her chin upward, then he kissed the sensitive patch of skin below her ear.
Knowing it wouldn’t take much effort on his part to make her change her mind, Sierra said, “Beau, stop.” She moved out of reach. “We can’t… I’m not going to let… It’s just that…” The emotions she’d tried to ignore when she’d woken this morning got the best of her and tears blurred her vision.
“What’s wrong, honey?” He squeezed her shoulders.
“I can’t think with you touching me.” Sierra retreated to the other side of the room.
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Beau’s mouth curved in a sexy grin.
She didn’t know where to begin, but she’d better figure it out quick or things would get out of hand and they’d end up back in bed. “We can’t keep doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“Having sex. We’re just friends, remember?”
“I think we’re more than friends, Sierra.”
“No, last night was a mistake.”
He jerked as if she’d slapped him. Blast it. This wasn’t going well.
“What we shared was special.”
“Be that as it may, my future is already mapped out for me, Beau.”
“You enjoy being with me.”
“Of course I’ve enjoyed your company.” And making love…that had been off-the-charts enjoyable.
In two strides he gathered her in his arms. “What’s got you running scared?”
It would be so easy to take a chance on Beau, but for her own survival she had to face the future alone. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m going blind.”
“Not for a long time.”
She pressed her hands against Beau’s chest, forcing a little space between them. Was he being obtuse on purpose or did he really view the two of them riding into the sunset together and living happily ever after? If so, then she had to protect him as well as herself.
“You’re going to run away from what we have—could h
ave—because you’re afraid,” Beau said.
“If you aren’t afraid of a future with me then you sure as heck should be.” She grabbed her coat and purse and fled the room.
The ride back to the Yellowstone Drag Strip was made in stony silence and not until Sierra got into her own car did she breathe a sigh of relief. Of course, for the entire drive to Roundup the headlights of Beau’s truck shone in the rearview mirror.
When they reached the outskirts of town, Beau took the turnoff to Thunder Ranch. Sierra drove the rest of the way to the diner, ignoring the pain in her heart as she contemplated what next to tackle on her bucket list.
Chapter Twelve
Beau parked in front of his father’s house and a moment later the front door opened. Joshua Adams stepped outside, Jordan right behind him.
“You made good time.” Joshua stared at Beau’s truck.
“Sierra’s not coming,” Beau said.
Jordan frowned. “Where is she?”
Sierra hadn’t phoned her aunt? “Sierra said she needed to get back to the diner.”
“But I phoned Irene and she—”
“I told Sierra, but she didn’t want to impose on Irene.” Beau silently cursed. Why was he making excuses for Sierra?
“Would you mind if I have a word with Beau, Jordan?”
“Of course not.” Jordan went inside the house and shut the door.
Beau wasn’t in the mood for a lecture and the look on his father’s face warned he was in for one.
“What happened between you and Sierra that made her not want to be here this morning?”
“Do we have to get into this right now?” Beau was tired and frustrated. Sierra had put him through the ringer the past eighteen hours.
“You better not have crossed the line in that motel room last night.”
That’s it. Beau had had enough. “And what if I did?”
His father’s face reddened. “I warned you—”