TRAVIS LEANED ON the fencepost of Brent’s new spread and stared at the cluster of horses grazing just up on the ridge. To the average eye, they looked calm and peaceful. But Travis didn’t miss the flare of nostrils or the way one of them—a jet black female with white spots—danced just a little too much when the other horses got too close.
The animal was as wild as the day was long. It was a damned shame. She had the makings of a good cutting horse. A quick gait. An alert eye.
Easy, girl.
The thought whispered through Travis’s mind and the animal’s head snapped up. Her gaze cut through the distance separating them and her ears perked.
I’m not going to hurt you.
The animal obviously wasn’t so sure and she danced backwards after a few moments. Travis debated hopping the fence and seeing how close he could get, but he wasn’t here to train horses. Even if Brent had asked for his help.
He’d just driven out to take a look because it seemed like the easiest way to forget Holly and her screaming orgasm.
His fingertips still tingled where he’d drank in her delicious energy for those few precious moments. But it hadn’t been nearly enough. He’d wanted to sink inside of her and stir another climax. And another. Until she finally admitted that she really and truly wanted him. To him. And herself.
It would take a while. He already knew that. He’d had no illusions that she would give in tonight. Sure, he’d hoped. But then that was part of what attracted him so strongly to her. Because she was strong. Different. Stubborn.
And he was too damned worked up to head back to his motel room.
He hopped the fence and the herd of horses scattered. All except for the black. She eyeballed Travis, sizing him up as if he was the enemy and they were standing on opposite sides of a battlefield.
As far as she was concerned, they were.
Travis took another step. Slow. Steady. Then another. The animal reared and he stopped.
They stared each other down for several minutes before the black finally turned and bolted after the others.
“She likes you. Otherwise she would have been long gone before you got so close.” Brent’s deep voice sounded behind him and Travis turned to see his brother standing on the other side of the fencepost.
“How long have you been here?” Travis asked as he hopped back over the fence to stand beside his brother.
“I heard your truck from the house.” Travis arched an eyebrow and Brent added, “and saw you, thanks to the surveillance camera posted at the road.”
“A vampire’s got to look out for himself, right?”
“You can’t be too careful. It’s pretty safe here, but we have had some crazy vampire hunters before. I rigged up the system myself. I’ve got two wireless cams posted at the turn-off. They communicate directly to my laptop. If anyone heads for my place, I know it. So what are you doing out here?”
“Just killing time. You’ve got a nice spread here.” He glanced around at the rich, green pastureland.
“Thanks. I’m pretty proud of it.”
Travis nodded toward the herd barely visible in the far distance. “She’s good stock.”
Brent shrugged. “She’s not worth much if I can’t get close to her.”
Travis drank in a huge draft of air, desperate to kill the scent of Holly that lingered in his head. If he intended to make it through more nights like tonight without giving in to his own hunger, he needed a distraction.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
12
“YOU’RE LATE,” EVAN declared when Holly walked into her office at noon the next day.
“We’re not open on Sundays. So I’m early for Monday.” She sat her purse on a nearby table and sank into her desk chair. “How long have you been here?”
“Long enough to have your coffee ready and waiting.” He handed her a steaming cup. “Two sugars. No cream. Just the way you like it.”
“Thanks.”
“Oh, and I picked these up on the way.” He handed her a plate with a fresh cinnamon bagel slathered with cream cheese. “Your favorite.” And then he dropped into the chair opposite her. He watched her take a bite, an expectant look on his face. “So?”
“It’s good,” she said around a mouthful.
“Not the bagel.” His eyes twinkled. “The date. Did you wear the shoes?”
Holly took a sip of coffee. “Yes and I already told you, it wasn’t a date. We just hung out.”
“Bob’s best friend’s sister said you were dancing.” She nodded and he added, “Bob’s best friend’s sister also said it was one of those slow, sexy numbers where you wrap your arms around each other and hold on for dear life.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Did your cowboy whisper sweet nothings in your ear?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Did he kiss you good-night?”
He kissed me all over.
The words were there, but for some reason she couldn’t quite push them past her lips. Crazy, right? The whole point for her to build a reputation as a good time girl. Lewd and lascivious behavior definitely qualified as a good time. At the same time, this was Evan. Her employee. Her friend. And the most die-hard romantic she’d ever met.
He stared so intently at her, a dreamy look in his eyes, that she suddenly didn’t have the heart to bust his romantic bubble by going into the tawdry details.
“We had a nice time,” she heard herself say.
Evan jumped from his seat and gave a loud squeal. A split-second later, he threw his arms around her neck. “I’m so happy for you. I knew you would find someone.”
“He’s only in town for a few days.”
“Love will find a way. It always does. Just don’t give up hope. And promise me I’ll get to be the mister of honor when you tie the knot.”
“It’s not that serious.” Yet. The traitorous thought punctuated her words and she shook it away. “I’m just helping him out while he’s in town.” When Evan looked at her as if she’d just kicked his brand new puppy, she added, “But if the time ever comes, I promise the title will be yours.” Not that it ever would. And certainly not with Travis Braddock.
He wasn’t the marrying kind any more than she was, which made them perfect for each other.
Right now, that is.
“I knew it.” Evan continued. “I don’t care what Bob’s best friend’s sister said. You do like this guy.”
“I don’t like him. He’s only in town for a little while and I’m showing him around. That’s all. Sort of like a good Samaritan. So,” She eyed her assistant. “What exactly did Bob’s best friend’s sister say? Besides the play-by-play action?”
“She said you’ve climbed aboard the crazy train and you’re headed straight to Harlotsville. But don’t you worry, I know better.” Excitement crept into his expression. “Are you going out with him again?”
“Not tonight. I’ve got too much going.” She stared at the pile of work sitting on her desk. A stack of swatches sat to one side. She had to pick new linens for Darla Lancaster’s reception, new place settings, new cardstock for the place cards, new color schemes for the new venue. And, of course, she needed a new venue itself. But it was Sunday, which meant these details would have to wait until tomorrow morning when everyone opened up and she could do a few walk-throughs. In the meantime, she was making decisions and getting as much ordered online as possible. “Plus it’s all-you-can-eat wing night at the Iron Horseshoe. Aunt Tootie and I never miss it,” she reminded Evan. She’d even gone so far as to leave a message at Travis’s motel telling him as much. Tonight was definitely out of the question.
As for tomorrow…
She tried to force the thought from her head. While she was completely committed to changing her image, she wasn’t eager for a change of profession. She’d worry about tomorrow night when that came. In the meantime…
She reached for a book of swatches.
“WHAT DO YOU mean you can’t make it tonight? It’s two-for-one on the fry-the-
hair-off-your-ass habanera wings. I’ve been overdosing on Maalox all day to get ready,” Tootie whined.
“I’m sorry,” Holly said. “But I’m neck-deep in satin birdseed roses. I tried to get Darla to go for bubbles with the late notice, but she wanted the satin roses. The ones we initially ordered were pink, but Evan found a few hundred red ones leftover from the Valentine’s dance we catered at the senior center last year. We filled those with conversation hearts, but they’ll hold birdseed, too. Since my week is going to be hellacious as it is, I have to knock out as much as possible, as quickly as possible.”
“If I ever get married, I’m having bubbles. Everything else is just too damned much trouble. Not that I am,” Tootie added as if she’d just realized what had come out of her mouth. “Marriage is too damned much trouble.”
“Do you want me to give you a ride to the bar?”
“You just finish up your work. I can manage. I’ve got men standing in line, you know.”
“I know. See you later.”
Instead of sitting at her desk, Holly boxed up her supplies and headed next door to her house.
She changed into a spaghetti-strap tank top and shorts and grabbed a diet soda. Flipping on the TV, she settled cross-legged on the floor—a Jersey Shore marathon blazing on one of the cable channels—and went to work.
The next few hours passed painfully slow as she filled rosebud after rosebud with birdseed. By the time she reached the halfway mark (two hundred and fifty down, two-fifty to go), her neck was stiff, her arms felt this close to falling off, and she’d more than earned the carton of Cookies & Cream ice cream sitting in her freezer.
She’d just collapsed onto her couch, fixed her gaze on yet another fight between Ronnie and Sam (the Jersey Shore couple most likely to strangle each other), and shoveled a spoonful into her mouth when the doorbell rang.
A few heartbeats later, she found Travis Braddock standing on her doorstep in faded jeans and a red T-shirt that read Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy, his black Resistol sitting on top of his head. The porch light outlined his broad frame and made him seem big and intimidating. Or maybe it was his frown doing that.
“I went by the Horseshoe and you weren’t there.” His gaze swept the length of her, from her bare toes covered with pale pink nail polish, up over bare legs, her shorts and tank, to her face. “I thought it was wing night.”
“It is. But I was too busy to make it.”
“Doing what?”
“Difficult bride.” She stepped back and opened the door so he could see the living room and the pile of satin roses stacked high. “She changed her colors and her theme, and everything else, which means the pink roses that were already done won’t work. I need red ones.” She drew a deep breath and tried to ignore the delicious aroma of hot, sexy male that filled her nostrils.
Some un-nameable emotion flashed in his eyes. Pleasure? Relief? As if he’d been worried she was out with some other guy. As if he cared.
As if.
He rubbed his hands together. “Then I guess we’d better get to work.”
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” She didn’t need Travis sitting in her living room, distracting her, no matter how appealing the idea of a helping hand was.
“Afraid you won’t be able to resist my charm?”
“I know I still owe you for last night, but I don’t have time for sex. I really need to finish this.”
“I’m not here to collect on last night. I was worried about you.”
He looked so sincere that she almost believed him.
Almost.
But that would mean that he actually liked her. And that would really throw a crimp into her plan because she was having a hard enough time not liking him. If he liked her, then she would start liking him, and that would make it impossible to spend time with him and not feel like she was on a date.
At the same time, she was only halfway done. Her hands hurt and she could really use some help. “Okay, but you have to swear to be careful. The satin pulls away from the stem very easily.”
“Careful’s my middle name,” he said. She stepped back, but he didn’t make a move forward.
“What?”
“Are you going to invite me in?”
“Didn’t I just do that?”
“You said I could help. You didn’t say I was welcome inside.”
His words struck something inside of her, tugging and pulling at a few memories, but she shook the strange thoughts away. “Please come in and help me.”
A grin creased his handsome face. “I thought you’d never ask.” He moved past her, his arm brushing the tip of her breast through the soft cotton of her shirt. Heat bubbled inside her and she caught a gasp just before it slid past her lips.
Not tonight. Tonight she had to finish the mountain of roses.
And after they finished?
The question rattled her nerves as she closed the door and turned to follow Travis Braddock into her living room.
13
TRAVIS SURVEYED THE mountain of roses. “Show me how to do this.”
“First you take one of these empty ones and open the top…” Her words trailed off and he knew she felt his gaze, stroking up her bare legs.
Heat sizzled along her nerve endings and he read the startling truth in her gaze. The sensation had nothing to do with the way he was looking at her and everything to do with the fact that he was standing in her living room, offering to help her fill birdseed roses, of all things. And she liked the situation far more than any freedom-loving, no-strings-attached good time girl should have.
“You’re looking at me.”
“So?”
“So don’t look at me.”
“It’s just looking. I’m not doing anything.”
“You want sex,” she said, accusing.
“Every man wants sex, sugar.” His grin stopped her heart for a long moment. “It’s genetic.” His gaze collided with hers. “But if you want to know the real truth, I think it’s you who wants sex. You’re the one interpreting my looks. Which means it’s you who’s got sex on the brain. I’m just appreciating the view.”
And what a view.
Where she’d looked drop-dead gorgeous last night, it was nothing compared to the woman he saw standing before him now.
She was barefoot, her legs smooth and tanned, with hardly a hint of makeup on her face. A tiny spaghetti strap inched down the curve of her shoulder and his fingers itched to reach forward and push the strap back up again.
But he wasn’t here to give in to his own impulses. This was about stirring hers. About turning her on and making her want him until she let go of her inhibitions and reached for him the way she desperately wanted to.
And that meant he wasn’t touching her. No pushing the strap back up or pulling it all the way down. Or stripping her bare and laying her down on the living room rug and spreading her long, tanned legs and—
“Travis?”
“Yeah?” He shook away the lustful images and ignored the tightening in his gut.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Open rose, pour birdseed inside. Gotcha.” Just to resist his own damned lust and bolster his defenses, he sat down on the opposite side of the pile. With a few feet between them, he was sure to keep his head and resist the beast growling inside of him.
He tried to tell himself that for the next few hours, but it was damned hard to believe it with her sweet scent filling his head and her soft breaths echoing in his ears. Despite the distance, he’d never felt quite so close to a woman. Or so at home.
The thought struck and he gave himself a mental shake. He’d lost his home. Rose was responsible and he was going to make her pay just as soon as Cody came back and spilled the beans on her whereabouts.
Until then, he was stuck here.
Stuck, he reminded himself.
If only he wasn’t starting to feel as if this was the one place he was always meant to be. Here. With her.
“Why not
just fill up a bucket and have everybody grab a handful?” he blurted, eager to distract himself from the dangerous thoughts. “It would save a helluva lot of time.”
“It’s not about convenience. It’s about creating a moment that’s memorable.”
“How is this memorable?”
“It’s one of the small touches that come together to make one big memorable event. It’s not always birdseed roses, either. Some people like bubbles. Some shoot off fireworks while the bride and groom run for the car. I even had one couple that wanted the guests to blow whistles.” At his questioning look, she added, “They were the girls and boys basketball coaches from the local high school. When they tied the knot, they wanted to feel like they were about to start the championship game. Hence the whistles.”
“Sounds ridiculous.”
“Maybe to you, because you’re not a basketball coach. Speaking of which, what do you do?”
“I train horses.”
“More of a hay tossing guy.”
“I don’t want people tossing hay at my wedding.”
“You say that now, but once the wedding bug bites, you’d be surprised what you start asking for. First it’s a little hay at the reception, maybe a raw-hide neck tie to go with the tuxedo. The next thing you know, you want an ice sculpture that looks like Mr. Ed.”
“You’re a regular comedian.”
She grinned and worked on a few more roses. “So how did you get into working with horses?” she asked after a long, silent moment.
“My family used to own a ranch in West Texas. I trained all of our cutting horses.” He paused. “We lost it all in a fire. So now I go from ranch to ranch, working other people’s horses.”
“I hope no one was hurt.”
“My brothers and I were the only ones to make it out. My mother and my nephew both died. Not to mention our foreman and some of the workers.”
“I’m really sorry.”
He’d heard the same sentiment time and time again. From all of the people in town. From everyone who’d ever known about his past. But the words had never really eased the ache in his chest. Until now.
The Braddock Boys: Travis Page 9