by Melody Anne
She smiled back at him and then lifted her hand, and he waited for her caress. Instead, she pinched the skin on his chest, hard. Recoiling, he gaped at her, stunned.
“Don’t think you can take what hasn’t been offered,” she said, then turned and walked away.
She was in the cab of her truck before his shock wore off, and he made it to her window just as she got the vehicle started.
“Come on, Taylor. Don’t you want to extend our touching reunion?” he said, shock gone, his attitude back.
“Take that trip to hell I suggested earlier.” She threw him a mocking smile, then slammed the truck into gear and peeled away, barely giving him time to back up so his feet wouldn’t get run over.
He stood there on the shoulder of the road and watched until her taillights disappeared, and then he jogged back to his truck and jumped into the cab, grateful for the warmth.
“Don’t think I’ll give up that easily,” he muttered aloud as he shifted into gear and took off down the asphalt.
He and Taylor had a story to finish, and he knew that the telling of it was going to leave them both gasping for air.
“No. I don’t need for you to baby me all the time!” The hurt on her mother’s face made Taylor feel instant remorse, and she backpedaled—a little. “I’m sorry, Mom. It’s just that this is frustrating. I’m not some helpless little female who needs everyone to continually act like I’m broken.”
“I know, darling, but you can’t imagine how frightened your family has been since the accident,” Maggie said, wringing her hands.
“I hate that I scared you, but I’m fine. I’m already feeling better. It’s just going to take a little more time before I’m allowed to race again.” Taylor paced the large country-style kitchen.
“You can’t possibly be thinking of going back, Taylor. The doctor said you were lucky this time, but if you receive another brain injury, it could leave you catatonic,” Maggie gasped.
“Mom, every occupation has its risks. Are you constantly giving Hawk lectures about running into burning buildings? Because I can sure as hell tell you that if a building is on fire, I’ll be running away from it.”
“There’s no reason to swear, Taylor.”
“Mom . . .” Taylor was so tired of being lectured.
“I’m just concerned about you,” Maggie told her daughter.
“You’re not concerned about the boys, and they have far more dangerous occupations!”
“That’s different, Taylor . . .”
“Why? Because Hawk and Bryson are guys, and I’m just a measly girl?”
“No, honey. I don’t think you’re any less capable than either of your brothers.”
“Yes, you do. I’ve always been babied no matter how many times I prove myself. I have won championships, Mom. I’m good at what I do. Bryson faces danger every day with bad guys who want to shoot him down, and Hawk could be buried alive in the wreckage of a burning building, but you don’t give them nearly the amount of grief that you give me.”
This was an argument Taylor had repeated with her parents time and again. She was tired of it, but until they accepted her for who she was, she’d continue to argue with them.
“I give them just as many lectures on safety as I give you,” Maggie huffed, refusing to back down.
Walking up to her mother, Taylor threw her arms around her. “I love you more than anyone else in this world, Mom, but I can’t stay here any longer. I feel like I’m suffocating.” Though Taylor didn’t want to hurt her mother, she needed desperately to get away from her childhood home. She’d never be treated as an equal here.
“It’s too soon for you to be on your own. Besides, you gave up your apartment,” Maggie pointed out.
“Don’t remind me. I had to give it up because I could barely walk when they released me from the hospital, but I’m doing much better now. I love you to pieces, you and Dad, but can you honestly tell me that you would want to go and live with your parents again after being out on your own for six years?”
Maggie said nothing for several moments, and then her shoulders sagged the slightest bit, and Taylor wanted to back down, but she knew if she did then she would never get to regain her independence. And she really, really needed to feel strong again.
“Well, if you must go, why don’t you go and stay at Bryson’s cabin?” Maggie asked. “It’s only an hour’s drive out of town, and you can have peace and quiet. And I can still be there quickly if you need me.”
Taylor pulled back from her mom, her lips turning up in a brilliant smile. “That’s a great idea, Mom. I don’t have an income at the moment and I don’t want to go through all my savings, but this can give me some time to figure out what I’m going to do next. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of it already,” she said, her mind already calculating what she’d need.
Her brother Bryson had a great hunting cabin out in the forest, about thirty miles down a winding gravel road on the outskirts of Sterling. Taylor wasn’t the most outdoorsy person, but if it would get her away from people trying to baby her, she would deal with Mother Nature.
“You have to stay in contact with me, though,” her mother told her firmly.
“I promise I’ll check in every day.” And she would. Taylor loved talking with her mom, at least most of the time. Though she was honestly eager to get away, she didn’t know how long she’d be able to handle being up there all alone—her newfound fears of things that go bump in the night might well get the better of her.
Straightening her shoulders, she forced that thought from her mind. There was no way she was going to let her accident stop her from doing anything. She was more than capable of being on her own.
She’d had her own place since she was eighteen, minus the year she’d lived with her ex-boyfriend. That hadn’t ended particularly well—he’d been the rebound guy after Travis—but the two of them had ended up friends because they raced on the same circuits a lot of the time.
Not that she’d heard from Jeremy since her accident. Hell, she hadn’t heard from any of her racing friends in a long time. Out of sight, out of mind, apparently. That stung a bit, but she refused to dwell on it.
Nothing would stop her from getting back to her chosen profession. No one would, either—not doctors, not her brothers, and certainly not her parents. She’d put too much time and effort into becoming the best motocross racer in the U.S.—heck, in the world, if she had her way.
“Let me make a few meals to take with you, then.”
Taylor turned to find her mother opening the fridge and pulling out ingredients to make a macaroni salad.
“You know I can cook up there, Mom.”
Maggie laughed. “Oh, honey, we both know how much you despise cooking.”
“I know. I know. All women should be expert chefs,” Taylor said with a roll of her eyes.
“I didn’t say that,” Maggie muttered, but Taylor knew her mother hated that she’d never taken an interest in the kitchen. There were just too many more interesting things to do besides stand over a hot stove.
“I have at least learned to make the basics, Mom, so every meal won’t be eaten from a box,” she said with a laugh. “And believe me, I have no doubt that you love me, faults and all.” Taylor sat at the breakfast bar with a pen and a piece of paper and began making a list of everything she’d need. Organization was one of Taylor’s strengths, and thankfully, the head injury hadn’t seemed to mess with that.
“Of course I love you.” Maggie was putting a pot of eggs on to boil, which made Taylor smile. Taylor got so distracted when she cooked that she’d put something on the burner and forget all about it. One time she’d left eggs boiling on the stove for so long that the water had all evaporated and then she’d nearly had a heart attack when the eggs began exploding in the pot, shell and egg chunks going everywhere.
She’d had to clean up the huge mess. And the only thing she hated more than cooking was cleaning. That’s why she preferred to eat on paper plates with p
lastic utensils. So she wasn’t the most domestic of women. Many men didn’t care about that.
Not that she’d dated a whole heck of a lot of men. It was difficult to do when your first lover was a man like Travis. She’d compared every single guy she’d dated since then to the miserable man, and they’d all come up short.
With a sigh, Taylor completed her list, got up, kissed her mother on the cheek, and then headed upstairs to pack. Now that she had a plan, she was eager to begin. When her father got home an hour later and gave her the keys to their little four-door sedan, she loaded it up, said a fond good-bye to her parents, and hit the road.
The sooner she got settled into the cabin, the better. It was time to evaluate her life, and the best place to do that was far away from everyone, with no chance of someone wandering up and knocking on the door. If that did happen, she’d be shaking in her boots, because there were no neighbors around for miles. And everything seemed to make her shake now. But that was just another thing she would beat.
Taylor pulled up to the quaint cabin just as the sun began lowering in the sky. Though she had to battle her fears of being so isolated, she unpacked the car, headed inside, fastened the dead bolt, and threw all her belongings on the living room floor. She’d unpack later. First, a hot shower, some of her mother’s macaroni salad, and then a lot of soul-searching.
Something wasn’t right!
Travis slowed his truck as he came around the last corner on the winding road to the cabin. He could feel an intruder’s presence before he actually saw the car sitting to the side of the cabin. The stranger wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was trespassing.
Backing up, Travis hid his truck behind the turn, then crawled silently from the cab and shut the door without even the slightest of clicks. Drawing his Beretta M9, he stole forward, gliding like a ghost.
The sun was down, but lights were blazing in the cabin he’d left empty just a few hours earlier. Whoever thought they’d found free lodging would be sadly mistaken.
Creeping up onto the deck, Travis looked for signs of a break-in, but didn’t find any. But that didn’t mean someone hadn’t barged in; it just meant the man was a smart criminal. Travis’s best friend, Bryson Winchester, owned the cabin, and Bryson had assured him that no one would be disturbing him out here.
So whoever was in the cabin was there without an invitation. Travis tried the knob and found it locked. Taking a quick jog around the place, he couldn’t see the intruder anywhere, so he quickly made his way back to the front deck and drew out his keys, careful to stay silent as he unlocked the door and smoothly slid it open a few inches at a time, keeping his ear tuned in to the slightest of sounds.
When the running shower caught his attention, anger boiled inside him. When he saw the bags tossed onto the floor, his anger hit a new level. Whoever had invaded his sanctuary was sure making himself comfortable. He hoped like hell the guy enjoyed it now, because the man’s ass would get a solid kicking in just a few more seconds.
Already familiar with which boards creaked when walked upon, Travis avoided them and stayed close to the wall as he made his way to the only bedroom in the small cabin. He slid the cracked doorway open and looked inside.
The bathroom door was open a few inches and he could see steam drifting through. He stealthily moved toward it while trying to spot any more of the intruder’s possessions. He didn’t find anything. Thinking only one man was involved, he still listened for the arrival of an accomplice.
Many years of service in the military had taught him never to underestimate the enemy. When he was sure no one else was in the house, he moved the rest of the way to the bathroom door, pushed it open, and saw a silhouette behind the shower curtain.
Small!
Was it a woman? It didn’t matter. Some of the women he’d run into over the years had been far more deadly than men. They used their looks and bodies to suck in their enemies and then shot them between the eyes.
With grim determination, he took silent steps toward the shower and yanked the curtain from the hooks. The person beneath the spray froze, and Travis stepped back for a clear view, his gun drawn, his eyes focused.
“Hands above your head!”
The command came out sure and steady. But when the figure turned around to reveal Taylor, her large blue eyes full of terror, Travis lost his iron-cool composure. It took several heartbeats for him to realize he was still pointing the gun at her.
“What?” Her voice was wobbly until their eyes collided, and then she realized who he was. Fright quickly turned to embarrassment as the shower spray covered the floor and she realized she was standing before him completely naked—and wet.
“Travis?” she whispered, and then cleared her throat as her hand shot out and she grabbed a nearby towel, forgetting that she hadn’t yet turned off the water. As the initial shock began to wane, her fear quickly burst into flames of anger. “What in the hell are you doing?”
“The bigger question is, what are you doing here?” He regained his lost composure, holstered his gun, and crossed his arms over his chest. Was she following him? Not that he would mind that. One time with Taylor certainly hadn’t been enough for him. He was ready to bed her again right now . . . And she was conveniently unclothed.
“I don’t think so, Travis. This is my brother’s cabin. I have a right to be here,” she snapped, seeming to finally realize the shower was still running. She turned away from him to shut it off.
“My close friend gave me permission to stay here for a while. He told me to take my time. He also told me no one else would come around.”
“I came here to relax and recoup. My mom told me no one would be here,” she countered.
“Hmm. Guess Bryson and your mother didn’t communicate with each other then.”
“Thanks for pointing out the obvious.”
“Okay. Well, I’ve had a long day, and seeing that you’re standing there practically naked,” he said before doing a scan up and down her wet towel–covered body, “maybe we should just enjoy the fact that we’re here together.” The leer he sent her would leave zero doubt what he meant with that comment.
“I don’t think so, Travis. Obviously, you’re going to have to leave. We can’t both stay in this cabin together.”
“I’m not going anywhere, darling. I like being here.”
She glared at him for several long moments, but her growl had always been much more fierce than her bite—not that her bite was anything to ignore. It was actually quite pleasant, at least during the right moments.
“Well, I’m certainly not leaving. So that means you need to pack your crap up and get out of here.”
Hot damn if he wasn’t more turned on in her presence than he’d ever been before. This woman had a way of firing every single one of his cylinders without even lifting one of those long, slender, sexy fingers.
“I don’t think so, Taylor. I was here first.”
“No one was here when I got here, Travis.”
The two of them faced off, and that’s when he took another long look at the towel barely covering her. It wasn’t doing much to hide the fact that the room was certainly cooling down and her treasures weren’t very hidden from his view—not that he’d missed anything when he first saw her buck naked under that stream of water. No. That image would be forever burned into his brain.
Dammit all. This wasn’t the time or place to make another pass, but for the life of him, he couldn’t seem to hold back his next words.
“I’m more than happy to share a bed with you, Taylor,” he told her, his voice dripping with arrogance. “All you have to do is ask.” He stepped back and leaned against the wall as if he had nothing better to do than stand there all night long.
“You’re a pig, Travis. I don’t know why I ever had a crush on you, and I certainly don’t know what my brother sees in you.” Taylor’s huffing and puffing made her perfect breasts rise and fall beneath the towel that was clinging to them for dear life.
“I haven’t ever tried to convince you that I’m Romeo.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“This is a mighty fine conversation, but I can see you’re getting chilly. Would you like a dry towel?” He had to be quite the gentleman to even offer, he told himself. After all, he’d much rather stare at her in her current state.
“I’m fine to get my own damn towel, Travis. Get out!”
Her voice rose as she shifted on her fabulously curvy legs, drawing his eyes to the edge of the towel.
“I guess I can give you a few minutes, Taylor.”
“Thanks. You’re a real peach,” she snarled as he finally ripped his devouring eyes away and turned to leave. Pausing at the door, he turned back around with a cocky half grin and winked before leaving the bathroom.
He didn’t know why he wanted to rile her up; he just knew that he loved seeing the fire in her eyes, loved hearing the outraged gasp from her luscious lips, and loved a good brawl with her. When he’d met her, she’d been too young. Not anymore. Now she was all grown up.
She was no longer a love-struck teenager, and as far as Travis was concerned, she was more than fair game. He was going to make sure he won whatever match she decided to throw down. Because time hadn’t erased this girl from his memory—and he’d never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Shivering as she tossed the soaked towel onto the floor of the tub, Taylor didn’t know whether she was more enraged with Travis’s ridiculously pompous attitude or because he’d caught her with her pants down, so to speak.
Yes, he’d seen her naked before. Once. And she’d vowed after his rejection that the man would never again see her like that or catch her in such a vulnerable position. She’d been in love with him from the time her brother had brought him home to hang out when she was only twelve years old, and as the years passed, her feelings had only grown stronger.
His rejection six years ago had been mortifying. Sure, she could understand his holding off when she was a teenager. She’d been too young then. But the night of that party . . . that fateful night when she’d finally made love to him . . .