She felt bad for inconveniencing him, but she was all out of other options. Plus she was so tired, she was in danger of literally falling asleep on her feet.
“Do you mind if I have a shower?” she asked.
“Help yourself.”
She parked her case against the wall and knelt to open it. Heat flooded her face the moment she pulled the lid up. She’d forgotten she’d thrown a bunch of sexy new underwear in at the last minute and she hastily stuffed them down the side of her case, hoping he hadn’t seen. She dug around for the one pair of pajamas she’d brought; she hadn’t exactly planned on spending a lot of time wearing clothes in the bedroom during this visit.
Toiletry bag in hand, she retreated to the bathroom. There was no lock, which made her nervous for a second. Then she shrugged. If Tanner Harding was the kind of guy who was going to morph into a creep, better to find out now than when she was asleep at three in the morning.
The first wash of hot water over her skin was so amazing and absolutely needful she forgot to worry. She washed everything, shampooed and conditioned her hair, then reluctantly turned the water off. As she’d hoped, the towels were light and fluffy and she blotted her body dry before pulling on her pajamas. She eyed herself critically in the mirror, wishing her tank top was a little more robust and her shorty pants a little longer. Was that the shadow of her nipples she could see beneath the pale pink fabric? She really, really hoped not.
She wrapped her hair in a towel, then brushed her teeth. Then she took a deep breath, gathered her things and stepped back into the room.
Tanner was sitting on his bed, naked from the waist up, one hand holding an ice pack to the opposite shoulder. His feet were bare, and his body was so hard and ripped Evie almost walked into the bed.
She quickly averted her eyes but the image of him sitting with the top button of his Wranglers undone and his bare chest on display was going to stay with her for while.
He had a genuine eight pack. His pecs were round and firm-looking, his shoulders powerful. He had chest hair, too, a light sprinkling of dark hair across his pecs that narrowed to a trail before it disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans.
She stowed her things in her case, careful to keep her gaze strictly front and center. She could still see him out of the corners of her eyes, however, and she willed him to put something on. She almost jumped out of her skin when he stood, and he threw her a querying look.
“You startled me,” she felt compelled to explain, her eyes resolutely glued to the carpet.
“I’m going to shower. Feel free to turn the lights out, get some sleep. You must be beat.”
She was, but she was also wired and jumpy because she was in an incredibly intimate situation with a very hard, muscular man she barely knew.
“All right. Um, thanks.”
It wasn’t until the bathroom door had shut behind him that she realized she was holding her breath. She let it out and sagged forward a little. Holy cow. Thank God this was only for one night. It was too weird.
She followed his suggestion and turned out the lights, then slipped between the covers. The blissful combination of clean linen, soft mattress and even softer pillow made her close her eyes and moan. She wanted sleep so badly.
So badly.
Then the shower came on, and an image of Tanner Harding, naked and wet beneath the shower, popped into her head.
You’re heartbroken, remember?
And all of a sudden, just like that, the day washed over her again—the crushing sight of Troy with another woman, the humiliation, the acknowledgment of her own stupidity. She sniffed, trying to get a grip, but the tears came anyway. She rolled onto her side, eyes squeezed tightly shut, and tried to think of anything else except the empty ache in her chest where her love for Troy had once been.
Because that was all over now. The hope that had been born when she was fourteen years old was officially dead, stomped to death beneath the high-heeled boot of a sexy buckle bunny. It had probably been about time, given she was twenty-five years old and Troy patently did not return her feelings, but it still hurt like hell, and it didn’t help that she was potentially stranded here in the US for two weeks with very little money and no contingency plan.
Giving up the battle to stop crying, Evie turned her face into the pillow and concentrated on being quiet instead.
*
Tanner circled his reconstructed shoulder beneath the hot water. He hadn’t gotten a clean dismount off Bandito tonight. He’d landed on his hip instead of his feet, but apart from a little bruising there was no major damage. Plus he’d qualified, and Bandito had given him a high-scoring ride.
All in all, a good night’s work. It was only after he left the stadium that things had gone south.
And now he was sharing his hotel room with Evie Forrester, who, it turned out, had slim, strong-looking legs and firm, high breasts that made a man wonder what her nipples looked like.
He blamed her tank top for that.
She had a nice backside, too—full and round, and he was almost certain she wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath her shorty pajama pants.
His cock stirred, brought to life by his thoughts and the heat of the shower, and he reached out and turned the water to cold. It made him grit his teeth, but it also got rid of his erection, and that was a good thing.
Only an asshole would lust after a woman who was heartbroken and hurting.
He shut off the water and toweled himself try, using the corner of the towel to wipe the steam off the mirror. After rubbing some arnica ointment into the bruise on his hip, he brushed his teeth.
He turned the light out before he left the bathroom, not wanting to wake Evie if she was asleep already. Walking as quietly as he could, he made his way past her bed to his own, dropping the towel only when he was about to slip between the sheets. He didn’t own pajamas, and he figured he’d be up before Evie anyway.
He settled into the bed, pushing the pillow into a more agreeable shape. Then he closed his eyes and tried to relax. The usual hotel sounds caught his attention: doors closing in the hallway, traffic in the street below. Then he heard a muffled sniff—Evie was crying again.
Well, shit.
He hated women’s tears. The sight of his mother crying had always made him want to confess or apologize as a kid, even if he’d done nothing wrong, and he’d never been able to walk away from a woman in distress. He didn’t know what it was; it just got to him.
Still, he lay in the dark listening to her muffled sobbing for a full five minutes before he threw back the covers, fumbled for his abandoned towel, and made his way to the bathroom.
“Here,” he said gruffly when he returned, placing the box of tissues on the mattress beside her.
There was a small silence, but as he climbed back into bed she blew her nose. Not a delicate little lady honk, either.
“Thank you.” Her voice was thick with tears. “Sorry if I’m keeping you awake. I think it’ll pass soon.”
“Don’t apologize for having your heart broken,” he said.
Troy was the one who should be apologizing. Tanner had no problem with anyone taking pleasure where they found it, but trying to have a bet each way struck him as being greedy and more than a little selfish. If Troy wanted to play, he shouldn’t have made whatever promises he’d made to Evie, and vice versa.
She blew her nose again, then he heard the sound of her moving around in the bed, changing position.
“I think maybe I came to Tulsa to have my heart broken,” she said very quietly.
He glanced toward her, surprised, but all he could see was the pale circle of her face in the darkness.
“You saying you knew he was cheating?” he asked, even though he really didn’t want to get in it.
“No. But I knew he wasn’t as into it as I was. I didn’t know that I knew, if that makes sense. But I did, deep down inside. I was really nervous about coming over here, wasn’t sure if I should do it. But I convinced myself that if
we were going to have a chance I needed to take a leap of faith. And look how that turned out.”
“I guess you know now. So that’s good.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. She was young, maybe only in her early twenties. What felt like the world to her now would be small potatoes when she had a few more years under her belt.
There was a small silence. Then: “You’ve been really kind to me today. Thank you. I would still be stuck in that horrible motel if you hadn’t stopped.”
“No big deal. It’s not like it’s putting me out any.” For some reason, her praise made him feel uncomfortably warm.
“You had to put your clothes back in your suitcase,” she said. “And I’m keeping you awake right now, talking.”
“You trying to convince me to kick you out?”
She laughed. “No.”
“Then maybe you should shut up and try to get some sleep.”
He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was smiling.
“Goodnight, Tanner.”
“Goodnight, Evie.”
He closed his own eyes and waited for sleep to come. He could hear her breathing steadily, just a few feet away. At some point his awareness of her faded, and the next thing he knew it was morning, and he could smell perfume, a bright, breezy scent.
It reminded him of something…
Soft skin. Blue eyes. Blonde—
He opened his eyes and sat up. Evie paused halfway between the bathroom and her case, a startled look on her face.
“Hi. Sorry. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
She was wearing a pair of figure-hugging jeans and a snug blue and white striped long-sleeved T-shirt. Her hair was up in a ponytail, her lips shiny with some kind of gloss. She looked fresh and incredibly young and he instantly felt dirty for all the half-remembered dreams he’d had last night.
“How old are you?” he asked, it being too early for his edit function to kick in.
“Twenty-five. Twenty-six in a couple of months. Why?”
“You look younger.”
“People always say that. I suppose I’ll appreciate it more when I’m fifty.”
“Give me a chance to shower and we can go grab some breakfast.”
“Oh. Um, great. That sounds good.”
He was still fuzzy-headed from sleep and didn’t stop to think before throwing back the covers. Evie’s eyes rounded comically before she spun around, offering him her back.
“Sorry. Forgot I didn’t own pajamas.” He figured that was what you were supposed to say when you accidentally exposed your junk to an unsuspecting woman.
“I don’t mind. I mean, it’s no big deal. Not that it’s small. I mean, it’s—”
“It’s okay, I get it,” he said, reaching for the towel he’d left beside the bed last night.
“It’s not like I’m a virgin. And I’m practically a fully qualified veterinarian. I’ve seen penises before. Lots of them.”
“Good to know.”
He had to walk past her on the way to the bathroom. She was blushing, her cheeks flushed with color. He waited until the bathroom door was closed before letting himself smile.
She was too cute. Funny and smart, too. Troy was an idiot for valuing her so cheaply.
He showered and shaved, making sure he did his usual morning stretches beneath the water. When he returned to the room it was empty, and he guessed Evie was giving him privacy to dress.
Sure enough, he found her in the hallway when he exited the room, arms crossed over her chest, one hip against the wall.
“I’m starving,” she announced.
“It’s all you can eat, so knock yourself out.”
“You know what? I just might. Feel free to avert your eyes if I gross you out at any point.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her as they started walking.
“My brother says I’m a messy feeder,” she explained.
“That’s the kind of thing brothers are meant to say.”
“Still, if I wind up with spinach in my teeth or egg in my hair, promise you’ll say something.”
“Scout’s honor.”
She shot him a look as they stepped into the elevator.
“Were you ever a scout? You don’t look the type.”
“Dropped out when I was thirteen.”
“Really? How come?”
“More interested in girls than tying knots.”
She smiled. “Now, you definitely look the type for that.”
She frowned then, as if she wasn’t sure she should be saying those kinds of things to him.
Yeah, she was cute as a bug, and Troy was a prize clown.
She was as good as her word once she hit the breakfast buffet, loading her plate high with bacon, eggs, hash browns and sausage. She piled a second plate with Danishes and pastries and sat at their table with a satisfied sigh.
“I love hotel breakfasts. Not that I’ve had that many.” She cocked her head, thinking about it. “Maybe that’s why I like them so much. Because when you think about it, they’re never really that great. There’s just a lot of stuff, right? Which you don’t get at home. It’s a novelty.”
He watched, fascinated, as she shoveled in a huge forkful of egg and bacon.
“Am I freaking you out? Aaron always says watching me eat is like watching a python swallow a cow,” she said.
“Aaron’s your brother?”
“The one and only.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself,” he told her.
He waited until she was eyeing off the Danishes before broaching the subject of her travel plans.
“I’ve got a laptop in my case if you need to get online and sort out your flights,” he said.
She looked up from slicing an apricot pinwheel in half. Maybe it was the sunlight streaming through the window, but her eyes were almost startlingly blue, like lake water on a summer’s day.
“Thanks, but I spoke to them this morning while you were sleeping.”
“You need a lift to the airport? I’ve got physiotherapy this morning, but I can run you out there this afternoon.”
She shook her head. “No airport. They won’t let me reschedule my flight without charging me for a whole new ticket, pretty much. But I have a plan. I’m flying out from Santa Fe in two weeks, and I’ve got a friend who lives near there. I emailed her this morning, and she got back to me straight away. She’s away for work this weekend, but she said I can come stay with her next week and hang out until my flight leaves. So. Problem solved. I’ll catch the Greyhound to Santa Fe, hang with Anna, then fly home.”
He frowned. “What about the rest of this weekend?”
She shrugged, tearing a chunk off the pinwheel. “I’ll find somewhere cheap to stay. There has to be something affordable and reasonably clean around.”
“Stay with me.” The words were out of his mouth before he’d even thought about it.
Her eyebrows shot up and he found himself justifying his impulsive offer.
“The bed’s there; it’s paid for. And I’ve already packed my gear back into my suitcase.” He shrugged his shoulder.
He waited for her to say no. She was studying him as though she was trying to read his mind.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked.
“I’m not.”
She made a scoffing sound. “You are. You are being so nice. If you looked up the definition of nice in the dictionary, your face would be next to it.”
He frowned. No one had ever called him nice before. He wasn’t sure he liked it. Around the stadium, his nickname was Hard Man, as in Tanner Hard Man Harding. Tanner Nice Man Harding didn’t have quite the same ring to it.
“Do me a favor and keep your voice down,” he said.
She laughed, her head dropping back a little, making her ponytail swish across her shoulder. She had a good laugh, and he couldn’t help smiling in response.
He slid the key card to the room across the table. “I’ll stop by reception and get a second one for m
yself.”
“Hang on a second. I didn’t say yes yet.”
“Yeah, but you were going to eventually. Man ain’t got all day.” He stood, scooping up his phone. “I’ve got some training and some physiotherapy. You should get out, see some of the city while you’re here.”
He didn’t wait for her response, simply headed for reception to source himself a new room key.
He had to kick his heels for a few minutes while a couple checked out, which gave him plenty of time to examine his motives for offering Evie Forrester the use of his spare bed for the rest of the weekend.
Because where the hell had that come from?
Was he being nice? He loved his sister and his mom, tried to do right by them and the other people he cared for, but he’d never thought of himself as a do-gooder or a good Samaritan. Yeah, he’d felt for Evie yesterday. She’d been wounded, in a tough spot in a strange city. None of those things were his problem, though, but he’d taken it all on as though she was his to protect.
He’d told her yesterday she wasn’t his type, and she wasn’t. Normally he gravitated to more worldly women, women with smart mouths and dirty minds. Evie was none of those things. Even though she was at a low ebb right now, it was evident she was one of life’s eternal optimists. He figured if she was a princess in a Disney movie, she’d be the kind with birds flying down to perch on her arms while she danced her way through the magical forest. She was sweet and funny and friendly. The quintessential Girl Next Door.
And yet…
There was a huskiness to her laugh that made something in his gut tighten. And he was way too aware of how she smelled and the way she held herself and how her body looked in whatever she was wearing. He’d spent a long time thinking about her breasts last night, thanks to her subtly revealing tank top and—
“How can I help you, sir?” the young guy behind the counter said.
Tanner stepped forward. “I need a new room card, thanks.”
“Of course, sir. Won’t be a moment.”
Tanner answered a few questions to confirm his identity, then rested his elbow on the counter while the clerk duplicated his key. He pulled out his phone to check his emails, and when he glanced up Evie was walking across the foyer, ponytail bobbing with each step. She stopped at the concierge’s desk and asked a question. The concierge handed her a pamphlet, and Tanner guessed she’d just scored herself a map of the city. She smiled her thanks, and Tanner saw the way the other man blinked a little, as though dazzled by strong sunlight. Then, as Evie moved away, the concierge’s gaze dropped to her butt.
Tanner (American Extreme Bull Riders Tour Book 1) Page 4