by Cora Seton
He hadn’t moved.
“Oh, sorry.” Shit, what a dummy. She raced around the car and opened his door.
He gave that sexy little smirk as he swung his legs out and stood. “Not a problem. We’re both gonna have some learning to do up front.” Bumping the door with his hip, he closed it, and offered her his arm. “Quick tour?”
She took his arm, carefully, and let him lead her through the tidy barns then through the unlocked front door of the house. “I’ll go get my things from the car. Be right back.” Delta pulled her suitcase, purse, and the bag of hospital paraphernalia from her car and trudged back inside.
The place was neat and modern, brown leather furniture, hardwood floors and big area rugs, and even curtains that graced the big windows of the living room. The vaulted ceiling made the place look huge, while a big stone fireplace made it cozy. “You have a beautiful home.” She set down her packages.
“Thanks, I have a housekeeper who keeps it tidy.” He shrugged and toed off his boots, leaving them on a mat by the door.
She did the same with hers. “What now?”
His face turned red. “I’m gonna need you to help me.” He hefted in a breath and puffed it out. “Nature calling.”
Her brows drew together. Then it computed. “Oh, right.” How was this going to work?
“I’m thinking that if you can get me out of my jeans and into some pajama pants, I can probably take it from there.”
Delta felt her own face turn red. When she’d thought about her activities for the next two weeks, she’d imagined cooking for him, working in the barn, mowing the lawn. But never had she considered having to take care of his corporeal needs. “No problem.” She looked to where a hallway led out of the room. “That way?”
He nodded. “Room at the end of the hall.”
They walked along the hallway, her in front. The first room was a big office, the second looked empty except for a rocking chair, the third had a large bed and lots of furniture.
“Guest room.” He nodded toward it. “You can make yourself at home in there.”
The final room, taking up the whole end of the house, was his bedroom. Another stone fireplace filled one corner, surrounded by a nice gray sectional couch. His bed was a four-poster affair, big enough for a dozen people.
Treven touched his elbow on a drawer in the tall, heavy-looking chest of drawers. “Would you please?”
She opened it and they found a pair of black lounging pants and a white T-shirt. Going for the top first, she removed his slightly-charred shirt and held it over the hamper. Did he want to keep it? She looked at him, he nodded, and she dropped it in. His chest was bigger than she’d expected, a furring of hair across the pecs extended down the middle of his ripped belly to disappear into his jeans.
Those nice, bulky arms invited her to touch. Low in her belly, jitters started, sending a chill along her skin. He was all male, and sexy as sin on a Saturday night. But, he was injured, and she needed to remember that. With extreme care, she got him into the T-shirt, but spotted scars—burns?—on his shoulder and neck. She looked away. This wasn’t the time to go deep into his history, but he’d said there was another reason why he’d saved her life today.
She reached for his belt buckle.
“Um.” He stepped back a few inches.
Those gorgeous eyes of his, she could drift deep into them, looking for the soul of the man. She noticed the long eyelashes on one eye, and shorter ones on the other side where his eyebrow was missing, too. They would grow back, thankfully. But his hands might bear scars, according to the doctor.
He swallowed and looked away.
“What’s wrong?” She unfolded the pajama pants.
“Just ignore whatever you see happening down there.” He fidgeted.
She glanced down to see a mighty bulge behind his zipper. With a smile, she blinked up at him. “Why, Mr. Arnett. You flatter me.” Delta laid on the southern belle accent.
He laughed, and let her unbuckle and unzip his jeans, but turned away from her as soon as the denim dropped to his thighs. She divested him of his jeans, trying hard not to stare at the manly, sexy ass displayed in black boxer-briefs right in front of her, then helped him slip on the soft jersey pants. Off to the side of the bed, she spotted the bathroom door, and walked in, turning on the light. Fancy. A big jetted tub took up one corner, a glass shower big enough for ten spread across one wall, and the entire room was done in soft, glowing, golden tiles.
“I’ll take it from here.” He came in and nodded his head toward the door. Luckily, a few of his fingertips had escaped severe burning and blistering.
“Okay, but shout if you need me.” She winked. “Remember, I travel with a pit crew of mostly men, so I’ve seen it all.”
He tried to stifle a yawn.
“Do you want something to eat?” She checked her watch. “It’s almost time for your next pain pill, and you should have something in your stomach.”
“Sure. Just a sandwich.”
“A sandwich I can do.” Cooking wasn’t a strong point for her. “Ask me to install a brake rotor, and I’m your girl. But to get water to boil? Uh uh.”
He chuckled. “I’m a man of simple tastes.”
“Then we’ll get along just fine.” She left the room, pulling the bathroom door behind her, but leaving it open enough that he could get his foot in the crack to open it. At the bed, she ran her fingers over the blue cotton quilt, then pulled down the corner of the bedding to make it easier for him to climb in. She hoped he’d nap, and the thought of him lying in that big bed made her want to crawl in and wait for him.
In the kitchen, she peeked into the dozens of white Shaker cabinets which seemed to carry everything a chef could need plus the floor space for about fifty people to do the cooking. This house truly took her by surprise. She’d expected a bachelor hovel, not a brand-spankin’ new, state-of-the-art custom home.
When she was halfway through putting together a sandwich for him at the big black-granite countertop on the kitchen island, a car pulled up. Three women climbed out, each carrying a box. “What is this about?” She crossed the kitchen and opened the side door as they climbed the few steps onto the porch and stopped, staring at her through the screen door.
“Ms. Pennington.” The oldest, maybe in her fifties, smiled brightly. “We heard you were here, but didn’t dare to believe it.”
So they’d come out to Treven’s ranch to check? Unbelievable. She put her hands on her hips and tipped her head. “Is there something I can do for you?”
The youngest, in her twenties and evidently pregnant, stepped forward. “We wanted to bring a few things for Treven. He’s done so much for everyone in town, the prayer chain is buzzing.”
Delta felt like a total bitch.
The young woman looked behind her as another car pulled into the driveway. “We won’t keep you, but we have some food, and some, um, things that might make it easier for him.” She swallowed, her cheeks turning pink.
“Please.” Delta pushed open the screen door and gave them her biggest smile. “Come in. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“You’re so kind, but no thank you.” The women stood talking for a few minutes, greeting the next arrival who bore her own box of food.
The ladies set their boxes on the center island. Delta unloaded two casseroles, three frozen crock-pot meals in giant plastic baggies, cookies on paper plates, a whole cake, and three loaves of homemade bread. She and Treven were set for a week.
One woman gave her a box of adaptive items she’d brought from the long-term care facility she worked at, and Delta tucked that box away in a closet, for now.
She couldn’t thank the ladies enough, and even admitted she wasn’t enough of a cook to know what to do with everything. The women left copious notes on reheating, and by the time they’d left—with a warning that there would be more folks stopping by—the kitchen island was full.
Delta leaned against the countertop, surveying the booty. She
opened the double doors of the stainless steel refrigerator. Too well stocked, and not much room for anything more. Contorting her tongue, she used her cartoon duck voice. “What are we gonna do now?”
“What the heck was that?” Treven wandered into the kitchen, a crooked smile on his face.
“Oh. Sorry.” Very few people knew about her duck voice. “When I’m overwhelmed, I go into cartoon mode.”
“You’re one fascinating woman, Delta. Race car driver by day, cartoon duck by night.” He looked at the plethora on the counter. “You even baked bread?” His smile came with a big yawn.
“Your neighbors and the townsfolk stopped by.” She couldn’t imagine anyone in her neighborhood in Atlanta doing anything like this for her.
“Ah.” He used his foot to pull out one of the tall stools on the far side of the island. “I should have warned you.”
“The prayer chain strikes again.”
He nodded and poked at a plate of bars covered in clear wrap. “Gotta love livin’ in a fishbowl.”
She jumped to help him open it, then shrugged. “Short of taping a fork to your bandages.” Picking up what looked like a seven-layer bar, she held it out for him. “Excuse my fingers in your food.”
He opened his mouth and she popped it in. Treven stared at her with those sleepy green eyes. Nothing in her recent memory buzzed with that much sexual energy, or hit her that hard and naughty down low in her belly. She heaved out a breath and went back to making his sandwich. She had to watch herself, or she’d end up tumbling into bed with this cowboy, maybe even falling for him a little. Just a little.
“Some mayo, some mustard, please.” He sat patiently while she dressed the sandwich, set a glass of ice water with a straw in front of him, then plopped down next to him and held up a quarter of the sandwich.
He took a bite, chewed and swallowed, she wiped mustard from his mouth, then he leaned in and kissed her.
*
Goddamnit, what was he doing? Treven pressed his lips against Delta’s, breathing in her sexy, spicy scent, like some foreign opiate that stirred his blood to boiling.
For a second, she froze, then opened her lips on his, inviting him in.
He took advantage, skimming his tongue over her teeth and into her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers, tasting every little bit of her he could reach.
He’d always heard that one kiss could change a man’s life. And this was that kiss. He could barely breathe.
Delta pulled away first. “Wow.” The word floated out on a sigh. She blinked those pretty mismatched eyes at him and licked her lips. “You sure know how to surprise a girl.”
Surprised her? Hell, he couldn’t believe he’d just done that. “If I blame it on the pain meds, would you forgive me?” But the meds had worn off an hour ago. This was all pure desire happening here in his kitchen, and he could feel her response just as if she’d waved a green flag at him.
“Nothing to forgive, cowboy.” She held up the sandwich for him. “And in case you didn’t notice, I was glad to participate.” The smile she gave him was soft and flirty.
He took a bite, chewed and swallowed, watching her. “You’re not what I expected.” The media made her out to be a wild child, doing what she wanted whenever she had the urge, spending her deceased father’s money like she was determined to go broke, and living her life on the edge.
“Yeah, I’ve got a reputation out there.” She frowned as she picked up another wedge of sandwich.
“Yet, here you are, being my nurse, cook, stable hand—”
“I’m really glad I could do it.” She said the words quickly as she set down the sandwich. “But honestly, Treven?” She squinted at him. “If both my race cars weren’t out of commission, I might not have offered.” With a shrug of one shoulder, she got up to refill his water glass. “I probably would have hired someone to nurse you for a time, though. Throw some of the family money at a problem, like I usually do.”
Her candor surprised him, her words spoken with a heavy dose of self-directed scorn. “Delta, I appreciate the honesty, but no matter why you’re here, it’s something so unexpected.” He paused to find the right words. “Besides my friends on the fire crew, no one has ever done anything like this for me.” Emotion welled in his chest. “Thank you. Really, I’m overwhelmed.”
She turned to look at him, and her eyes misted over. “You’re welcome. But reserve judgement until you see how I do with those horses.”
He smiled and gestured to her chair. “Let’s eat then we’ll go out and see what you can do with a barn full of cayuses.”
A watery smile curved her lips. “Cayuses?” She gave a quick laugh. “You Texans use such interesting words.” She held a pain pill to his lips then lifted his glass for him.
He took the pill as he let his eyes wander over her face, and his mind wander into the future. What would she be like in bed? The wild child he’d read so much about? Or the caring, concerned woman he’d seen the last few hours. A mix of both would be hot. Real effen’ hot.
Delta moved around the island and took her seat next to him. “And we’d better do the horses fast before that pill hits you, ’cause I’ll want you to stay in bed for the rest of the day.”
Her words caused a flood of lust to race to his cock. “Delta, darlin’, how could I ever refuse a command like that?”
She paused a moment, then broke out in laughter, her sweet voice rising to the rafters.
He knew right then he’d already lost half his heart.
Chapter Three
‡
Treven could barely stay on his feet in the barn, exhaustion and pain rendering him nearly useless, but he liked that Delta picked up the list of chores quickly. She’d actually brought a pen and paper and had taken notes on everything.
They trudged back toward the house as he recited emergency phone numbers, Clint and Rex’s numbers if she needed help with any of the heavier chores, and a couple of additional tasks for her to do.
When he hit his bed, it took less than a minute for him to fall asleep. When he woke, in the exact same position, the room was dark. The sun had set. Delta had been right, he needed the sleep. If she’d only come and lay next to him, this would have been the best day of his life.
He padded down the hall. The kitchen was clean, just the under-counter lights on, but an amazing smell emitted from the crock pot on the counter. If he could figure out how to get the lid off and spoon some into his mouth, he’d be all set.
Quiet, feminine laughter came from the living room.
He headed that direction. Delta sat on the couch in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, headphones over her ears, and a tablet in her lap. She looked so young, so carefree, but he knew she had a heavy load on her shoulders.
Not only had she taken on the burden of her legendary father’s racing team, she’d become a major player in the Pennington Racing Company, living like a nomad most of the year with no family, just a pit crew.
Spotting him, she pulled off the headphones and stood. “Hi. How are you feeling?”
The outfit must be her pajamas. A little too short for public consumption, the shirt bared her belly and cupped the round globes of her breasts. Treven’s mouth watered.
“Hungry?” She stepped toward him.
He wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss her senseless. Damn, why hadn’t he thought to brush his teeth, use mouthwash? Hell, with his hands like this, he couldn’t do any of those.
“Yeah, I’m hungry.” In his underwear, a hard one formed. He turned toward the mammoth television sitting dark in the corner. “You don’t like a big screen?”
Brushing past him, she shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t want to risk waking you.”
He followed her into the kitchen, admiring the way her nice ass wiggled in those shorts. “I was pretty much dead in there.”
She flipped on the lights and shook a pain pill out of the bottle. “Ready?” She held it up.
His hands hurt. Bad. Otherwise he’d say no
and offer to sit up with her and watch TV. “Yep.”
Supper was a comedy with her handling two bowls of stew and two spoons. Then she walked to the hall closet and pulled out a box. “Now, I don’t know how you’re going to feel about this.” Her mouth quirked in a frown as she opened the lid on the box and pulled out a yard-long plastic stick with a sponge on the end. “But one of your neighbors dropped this off with a few other things that might make your life easier.”
Treven stared at the sponge, realizing just how completely helpless he was, and the glaring way that weakness was prominently displayed in front of the sexiest woman he’d ever gotten close to. “Just kill me, Delta. Please.”
She snorted, then laughed. He laughed with her, and they ended the night falling asleep next to each other on the couch, watching an old western on the big screen.
*
The next morning, Delta stood outside the walk-in shower in Treven’s bathroom, adjusting the water temperature for him as he stood under the cascading spray. The plastic bags on his hands were secured to his forearms with the waterproof tape she’d found in the box from his neighbor lady. In his black underwear, he was a gorgeous specimen of man, all wet muscle and long sinews.
Her gaze finally made it back to his face, and he smirked at her. “Could I impose on you to wash my hair for me?”
“I’d be happy to.” She sounded a little too eager, but her fingers itched to touch him, wash his hair, soap him down. Everywhere. After the shampoo, conditioner, and a brief rubdown with the bar of soap on every inch of skin not covered by his underwear, her whole body tingled with chills of desire. The smell of his manly products, the firm contours of his body. And surprise! In his underwear, he had a half-mast chubby. For her.
What would he say if she stripped off her clothes and joined him?
“Thank you, Delta.” He turned his back to her. “I can take it from here.”