The Bull Rider's Homecoming

by Jeannie Watt

  “The time wasn’t right,” he finally murmured when it became clear that she couldn’t find words.

  “The location was a problem, if I recall.”

  “And me. I was a problem.”

  “Somewhat,” she agreed.

  “Here’s the thing... Annie, you are the most grounded person I know. I didn’t want things to get out of hand. I didn’t want you to regret anything. On that day I thought I was being noble, but what I was really doing was making the decision for both of us.”

  “Without asking what I wanted.”

  “Without asking what you wanted.” He reached out to trace his fingers down her cheek, setting all of her nerves on fire. “What do you want, Annie?”

  “I honestly thought I wanted just friendship. Before. It seemed...sensible. Safe. Sane.”

  “And now?”

  She moistened her lips before saying, “I want to experience some things that are not tied to being a mom and a sister and a good friend.” The total truth. She wanted to spread her wings, like other women. Expand her world.

  “You said that thing about not liking people who say things they don’t mean and make promises they don’t keep.”

  “That’s true. I can’t handle that.”

  “I’ve always been truthful to you, Annie. I always will be. Even if it’s a truth you don’t want to hear.”

  “I’ll do the same.” She sucked in a breath as his fingers moved slowly along her jawline. “So...here goes. I want you.”

  Something glinted in his eyes as she spoke. “That’s laying it out there.”

  “I won’t get anywhere hinting.”

  “Actually, that’s an area where I do take a hint.”

  “You didn’t last time,” she pointed out. Her heart was starting to beat harder. Faster.

  “Again, I was being noble.” He lifted the corner of his mouth. “Won’t do that again.” His expression softened as he brought his hands up to frame her face, lowering his forehead to touch hers. “Where are the girls?”

  “Birthday party.”

  “Are you telling me that for once in my life I might be in the right place at the right time?”

  Annie leaned in to brush her mouth against his. He smiled beneath her touch. “Maybe this once.”

  “How long do we have?”

  Annie met his eyes, hoping he could see just how serious she was when she said, “Long enough for you to show me all the stuff I’ve been missing for all these years.”

  “Enough said.” He took her lips in a deep, deep kiss, slowly backing her up. Annie felt the edge of the counter against her back, but more than that, she felt the pressure of his mouth, the amazing sensations of his tongue, the strength of his hands as they held her at her waist. His thumbs brushed up over her rib cage, close to her breasts, but not close enough.

  Annie sighed against his mouth then wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him even closer.

  He slowly lifted his head, looking down at her through hooded eyes. “Just so you know, we can stop whenever you want... Like I said, I’m not one to rush things.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t think I’ll need to stop.”

  He simply smiled and took her lips again, and even though the sensations were making her crazy, urging her to take and be taken, Annie was supremely aware of the fact that she was rusty in this area, too. Beyond rusty. She hadn’t had all that much experience before Wes left, and absolutely zero experience after.

  But as Trace skimmed his hands up over her breasts, nuzzled her neck, nipped her earlobe, thoughts of what she hadn’t done were soon replaced with thoughts of what she was going to do. Her breath caught as he lifted her up onto the counter, putting them eye to eye. She settled her hands on his broad shoulders, felt the tension and strength playing beneath her palms, and the thought of feeling him naked against her made her insides start to spiral.

  “I...uh—” she closed her eyes as he pressed a warm kiss against her jawline “—have a bedroom, you know.”

  Trace lifted her off the counter and she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist to keep her balance. “Right or left at the doorway?” he asked.

  “Right.”

  Somehow Annie got the word out before his mouth closed over hers and he started walking.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Annie’s red terry-cloth robe didn’t fit Trace all that well, but it covered him while they sat on the sofa and pretended to watch television. Trace was in no hurry to leave and Annie was in no hurry to see him go. The robe dropped away from one muscular leg as he propped his foot onto the ottoman and flipped through the television channels. Annie tried to focus on the viewing options as they flew by—really, she did—but instead found her gaze straying to his partially exposed leg.

  She’d thought he had no scars, but it turned out he had no visible scars. His thigh was a mess, even though he assured her that no arteries had been compromised when he’d been hooked by a young bull as a sixteen-year-old. There was a very neat surgical scar on his shoulder and another above one knee, but other than that, he was actually in good shape.

  Excellent shape.

  Would-love-to-get-her-hands-back-on-him shape.

  Trace’s phone buzzed and he reached for it then got to his feet and left the room as he spoke bull-riding business. A few minutes later he came back wearing his jeans and tucking in his T-shirt, his feet still bare.

  Annie shook her head. “I kind of liked the other look.”

  “You’ve had all the looking you’re going to get for today,” he said gruffly, his eyes glinting with amusement. Annie answered him by tossing a pillow at his midsection.

  “Easy now,” he said, catching the pillow and tossing it away before sitting back beside her. “I don’t want to risk injury.”

  Annie snorted and Trace smiled that devastating smile that made her wish she wasn’t picking up the twins in an hour as he sat back on the sofa and hauled her onto his lap. Annie pushed her hands into his hair and met his lips.

  She still had half an hour before she had to leave, and life had taught her long ago that it was best to take advantage of opportunity while it was there.

  Half an hour later Annie was dressed and Trace was dressed once again. She felt alive and inspired and...good. Very, very good. Sex was indeed like riding a bicycle, except that it felt a whole lot better, before, during and after.

  “You know,” Trace said after opening the door to his truck, “I could bring dinner over tomorrow. I have a free morning and you don’t.”

  “That would be great.”

  “What do you think...something with turnips and mustard?”

  Annie laughed. “I don’t think the girls would be very happy with Mr. D’laney.”

  “What would you like?” he said, ambling closer for a kiss.

  “I would like something simple and easy to make and—” she took hold of the front of his shirt “—maybe a little more time alone.”

  His expression brightened briefly, then he smiled ruefully. “That’s not going to happen tomorrow, is it?”

  She gave her head a slow shake. “Afraid not. All you’ll get is scintillating company and a possible game of rodeo.”

  He gave her one last kiss before stepping away. “I’ll take it.”

  “And you know what?” Annie said. “I’ll cook. I have a frozen homemade casserole. That way you can concentrate on your tapes and all that other stuff you do to prepare to get the snot beat out of you.”

  “Spoken like a bull rider’s sister.”

  * * *

  AFTER THE RODEO game and then dinner the next night, the girls happily ensconced themselves in front of the television while Trace did the dishes. Annie dried and after a quick glance to make certain the coast was clear, Trace put an arm
around her then let his hand drift down to the curve of her hip.

  Annie leaned into him and Trace took her lips in a quick kiss before putting both hands back into the water. He heard Annie inhale deeply then exhale as she took a dish from him, rinsed it and dried it.

  “You shouldn’t be helping. You cooked.”

  “Defrosted and baked,” she corrected. “And I like doing this.”

  As did he. It was new territory, having to check for kids prior to making a move on an attractive woman, but he didn’t mind.

  “You should come back the day after tomorrow,” Annie said.

  “Yeah?”

  “The girls have a slumber party in town.”

  “I’ll be here,” Trace promised with a waggle of his dark eyebrows.

  “I thought you might. Only—” she gave him a sideways look “—this time you’re cooking. I’d like macaroni and cheese, please. With mustard.”

  He tipped her chin up with one soapy finger and lightly kissed her lips. “Done.”

  * * *

  TRACE SPENT THE next two evenings at Annie’s house. He wanted more time alone with her, but it wasn’t to be, so he took what he could get—and he enjoyed it. In less than a week, he’d be gone. He was just glad that he and Annie were on the same page. It was obvious to him that she enjoyed being with him as much as he loved being with her. And the thing that made him most relieved was that they’d part on good terms. In a contrary way, he looked forward to going, even though he’d miss Annie like crazy, because the longer he stayed, the more chances he had to screw up. Hurt this family.

  But the days passed and no emotional disasters occurred. He thought he was home free—was actually congratulating himself—and then Kristen announced at dinner that she’d gotten an extra chair at the school play for him. She radiated excitement as she announced her coup. Trace shot a look at Annie, who instantly understood his dilemma.

  “I’m not going to be here,” he said gently.

  “Not going to be here?” the twins said in unison. “But it’s our play!”

  “I’ll be traveling to Portland.”

  Kristen’s lip started to shake, and Trace felt a moment of panic.

  “Ladies, I told you that Trace had events coming up and that he couldn’t come to your play.”

  “But that was when you were mad at him.”

  Annie stared at her girls with a stunned expression then quickly recovered. “Nothing has changed.”

  “You’re friends again, and we thought for sure that Trace was coming.”

  “I can’t come, sweetie. I want to.”

  Katie’s mouth clamped shut and she lowered her eyes. “Humph.”

  Trace’s stomach knotted and he had to remind himself that it was just a play. Important to the girls, but a play about butterflies and squirrels.

  “Ladies...” Annie said in a warning tone.

  The girls both picked up their forks and started to eat, their movements slow and unenthusiastic. Annie sighed and met Trace’s eyes.

  He felt terrible.

  “They’ll get over it,” she said later as he was packing up leftovers for her.

  “I have to go to my event.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “The girls need to understand that not everything works out the way they want it to.” Her mouth tightened a little and he had a feeling she was going to say more, but his phone rang. He answered it with a clipped hello, then his voice changed. “Sure. Yeah. We can discuss it tomorrow. No, I planned to be there. I won’t ride, but I’ll be there.”

  Annie crossed the floor to him as he dropped his phone into his pocket. She didn’t say a word as she rose up on her toes and kissed him deeply. Trace’s breath caught as his hands closed over her shoulders.

  Damn but this woman could do things to him.

  * * *

  SHE’D ALMOST DONE IT. She’d almost asked Trace why he felt the need to move on, to keep from putting down roots, even when the circumstances might be conducive to rooting.

  She’d almost asked what it was he was running from.

  But it wasn’t the time, so she’d walked him to the door after kissing him and let him go on his way. And then she’d watched his taillights until they disappeared into the distance. What had she gotten herself into?

  Nothing that she regretted, she told herself firmly. Better to have loved and lost and all that. She wouldn’t give up one day she’d spent with Trace...and they did so well together, the four of them. Was it possible or realistic to wonder if Trace might not realize what he was missing after he left?

  Or was he going to settle back into his old life and simply remember her and her girls fondly?

  Yes, she could hope. She could question. The one thing she couldn’t do was to try to change his course of action. She’d learned long ago that when a person needed to do something, you had to stand back and let them. Grady and bull riding. Her father and trucking. Wes and his rodeo. People did what they had to do. What they were wired to do.

  The girls forgave Trace for missing the play not that long after he’d driven away.

  “He can see our play next year,” Kristen decreed. “We’ll have our teachers put it on a day when he doesn’t have a ’vent.” Because in her mind, Trace had become like Grady—he might leave to ride bulls, but he would come back.

  “E-vent,” Annie corrected. “And he has another home in Oklahoma, so after he leaves, he might not be back for a long time.” Not totally true about the home in Oklahoma, but close enough. Trace had a home wherever he laid his head down, according to him.

  Kristen gave her mother a solemn look. “He’ll be back.”

  Annie nodded and turned toward the fridge to put away the leftovers. Maybe he would...but only after he figured a few things out.

  * * *

  TOURIST SEASON WAS ramping up and Annie Get Your Gun experienced a nice uptick in sales. The quilt room was so successful that Danielle was now taking consignment items from other local quilters.

  Annie was rearranging stock to cover the empty spot left by a very satisfying sale when the bell rang and Mrs. Hennessey came in with Mrs. Wilson, the school principal. Danielle greeted them and guided them to the area where they’d stocked gifts suitable for graduation.

  It didn’t take the ladies long to choose Western-themed cards and jewelry for their graduates, and Annie rang up the sale while Danielle went to the back to wrap.

  “Lovely stock as usual,” Mrs. Wilson said.

  Annie smiled and started to respond when Mrs. Hennessey said, “Too bad about your young man. Jasper tried to keep him here, you know, but he turned him down.”

  Annie blinked at her. “My...young man?”

  Mrs. Hennessey lifted finely groomed gray eyebrows. “Don Maguire said...some things.”

  She smiled meaningfully and Annie looked heavenward. The bull rider who’d witnessed the windows they’d steamed up after the trailer wreck. She cleared her throat. “Well, I appreciate the effort.”

  What else could she do, other than melt into the floor? Floor melting was actually an inviting option, given the fact that Principal Wilson was listening to the conversation with keen interest.

  “It wasn’t a mercy job he offered, either. Jasper says your young man is a natural teacher and good with the stock.”

  “Yes,” Annie muttered as Danielle came out from the back with two beautifully wrapped boxes. “He’s quite talented, but you know how it is with bull riders. The road calls.”

  So loudly apparently that Trace had turned down the opportunity to stay even seasonally. That hurt. A lot.

  Annie pressed her lips together as the women strolled out.

  “So...you and Trace?” Danielle asked as she tidied up the stack of paper bags near the register.

  Annie
turned weary eyes to her friend. “Temporary thing. That’s all. He’s leaving in a matter of days and won’t be back.”

  “You’re good with that.”

  Annie considered then gave an abrupt nod. “I am.”

  * * *

  AS IT TURNED OUT, Trace didn’t have to ask Cliff, the neighbor, to feed Lex’s animals for more than a couple of days. Grady called to tell Trace that he and Lex were coming home for a couple of weeks while he recovered from a strained elbow. So that was one issue solved.

  The thing with Annie... He didn’t know about that, but all seemed well so far. He hadn’t been able to stop by the previous evening, but he’d called to tell her he wouldn’t be there. She’d been fine with it, reinforcing what she’d said about just needing to know—which was why he was going to be up-front about Hennessey’s job offer. An offer that had surprised the heck out of him.

  An offer that wouldn’t work for a number of reasons—Hennessey’s stock wasn’t gnarly enough and Trace wasn’t ready to settle into a job. Not yet. Not here.

  That evening, after they’d finished dinner and had cleaned the kitchen, and while the twins were in the living room watching a princess-somebody show, Annie backed Trace up against the kitchen counter. She took his face in her hands, pulled his lips down to hers for a kiss, as she so often did. Only this kiss felt different. Serious.

  When she leaned back, she said, “I want to come clean and tell you that I know about Hennessey’s job offer. His wife told me.”

  Trace’s mouth tightened. “I was going to tell you tonight.”

  “So I figured.” She spoke with a sincerity that told him she believed him. “It didn’t seem right to have you working out how to tell me something I already know.”

  “I couldn’t take the job, Annie. It doesn’t mesh with my plans.”

  “What are your plans?”

  “Portland. Austin. St. Louis.”

  “And then?”