Burn for Cowboy (Stampede Sizzlers)

by Jenna Howard

  Once it had been determined there was no gold medal in her future, her father had given up on her.

  Alone and struggling to survive, at seventeen, with no one to make it stop hurting.

  What hurts you is not allowed.

  Mike opened the door, the beat up jeans he relaxed in riding low on his hips. His gaze moved over her, not even seeing the scars that taunted her with memories. “Those sad eyes.” A graceful push of his shoulder had him standing up and walking toward her. “What is going on behind these sad eyes?”

  When his fingers caressed her cheek, she shut her eyes. Lips pressed against her forehead and the gentle kiss caused a tear to escape. “I don’t know.”

  “Liar,” he whispered against her ear. He backed her toward their ruined bed and when the mattress bumped her knees, he pushed her backwards. She bounced against the sheets that smelled of him, of her, of them. “You’re remembering that he broke you heart, because he did. Didn’t he?” He straddled her hips and braced his hands on the mattress so he hovered above her.

  “Tell me what happened? Tell me why…” A frustrated sigh escaped from him as he stared down at her.

  “Why?” She whispered, reaching up to wipe the tears from her cheek.

  His gaze was steady. “I want all of you, Meredith. I don’t want two separate lives anymore clearly defined by my house and yours. I want one life. One.” His weight shifted as he lifted up his left hand and held up one finger. “Yours and mine blended together. I know that scares you. But I want to know why. Why does the thought of a future with me scare you? I will not,” he said as he tapped that finger gently over the fast beat of her heart to match the rhythm of his words, “walk away from you, Meredith.”

  She searched his eyes and wanted him to wrap her up in his arms to make it all go away. Put a blindfold on her so she couldn’t see anyone but him. His finger rested over her heart.

  “Know that here.” Another tap over her heart. “Know it here.” His finger gently pressed against her forehead. “You trust me with your body, but I want it all, little love. Trust me here and here.” Once again he motioned to her head and heart. “That’s why.”

  ****

  Mike stared at his hand and dragged his fingers over his palm. Well, at least he knew the ghost in Meri’s heart. Exhaling, he sagged back in the couch. He just didn’t expect it to be someone he knew. Someone he liked, for the most part.

  Now he wanted to hunt his hockey player down and slam his fist into that pretty boy face. His fingers curled inwards and he ran his thumb over his knuckles. One hit was all it would take to release what was broiling in his stomach.

  Anger that someone had hurt Meri years ago. Envy that she had loved the stupid asshole. Frustration because even now, even after everything she was in that bedroom crying over the jerk.

  Oh yeah, he wanted to bash the crap out of Adam.

  There was movement and he watched Meri slip out of the bedroom wearing his shirt. She looked hesitant, staring at him as she twisted a button at the cuff around and around. What had he ever done to make her look at him with uncertainty? To jerk away from him?

  She rubbed her thigh, tugging on the bottom of his shirt as if to hide her scars. Shit. They were back to that?

  A frustrated sound strangled in his throat. He crocked his finger at her. When she stood between his knees, he eased the shirt away from her hand so she wasn’t trying to hide.

  “I do trust you, Mike.”

  His eyebrows rose as he parted the shirt. “Says the woman who is all buttoned up.” He flattened his hand on her stomach and met her gaze. “Tell me about Adam.”

  His thumb caressed over the surgical scar on her stomach beneath the shirt. He knew her body, knew every mark on her pale skin. Even the ones he had laid upon her with a crop, he remembered the faded stripes.

  “I don’t want to talk about Adam.”

  He did. Mike turned her so her back was to him. He tugged on the sleeve until it covered her hand. “How long did you date?”

  “Not long,” she said softly. Mike waited as he eased the buttons of the left sleeve into the cuff of the right.

  “How old were you?” Getting answers from her was like trying to whip running water.

  “Seventeen.”

  His hands paused in his task of connecting the two sleeves together. Seventeen was when she had been in the accident. “How long did you date again?”

  Open wound meet the salt of my questions. He ran his hands up her trapped arms and she shivered beneath his shirt. “Does it matter?”

  His hands fell. Bracing his elbows on his knees, he stared at her back. Mike rose behind her and lowered his head until his lips brushed against her ear. “This is you not trusting me, Meredith,” he whispered.

  Through their clothes he felt the tensing of her body. “Please,” she said softly, her voice breaking as if she was trying not to cry.

  Mike kissed the top of her head. “I’m not sure how I feel about Adam Payne having this much power over you. Okay, I do know. I want to haul him onto the ice then embed his ass in the boards so hard he’ll be picking out splinters for five years. I assume he was your first lover because I can’t see you as a promiscuous teenager. I can’t deny that I wasn’t the first man to make love to you nor even the second, but by God I plan on being the last.” He caressed his fingers down her neck to where her pulse raced beneath the open collar of his shirt. “Oh how that terrifies you. I’m not denying you your past. That’s ridiculous. But when I ask a simple question like how long you dated, I’d like an answer. Five minutes ago you stood in front of me and told me that you trust me. That’s bullshit. If you trusted me, we’d have ended this conversation before it began and we’d be naked in bed. But here we are, little love. You keeping yourself locked down to me.”

  A tear shimmered down her cheek as she closed her eyes. Mike studied her profile. “I want all of you, Meredith. Body, heart and soul. It’s not just the dominant in me that craves that but the man. Does he have the elusive heart and soul?”

  “No,” she whispered, her arm moving as if she was going to wipe at her cheek. Too bad he had buttoned her arms behind her. She was just going to have to shed the tears that had been haunting her since he had laid all his cards on the table.

  “Did you just lie to me, Meri?”

  She liked her lower lip and shook her head. “No.”

  When she went face him, he held his finger against her cheek. “One final time, Meredith–”

  “Four months,” she whispered.

  The time frame made him blink slowly. Four months? He was competing with an eight year four month old ghost? “Was that so hard?”

  What the hell had Adam Payne done to make such an impression on her? What had he done to make her so guarded?

  A little nod made Adam smile, his finger caressing the silky skin of her cheek. There was something amazing about her letting him do rather painful things to her soft skin. He had been with Meri almost three times as long as Adam had been. He couldn’t help but feel a little insulted since he knew Adam’s reputation with the ladies. Adam’s relationships were like his slap shot – short, fast and hard. He figured that as a punk ass kid just out of high school, he had been more of an arrogant jerk than he was now.

  Mike may do painful things to Meri’s body, but he never hurt her to the point she couldn’t heal.

  Apparently Adam had.

  Mike caressed his fingertip over that fluttering pulse at the base of her neck. “I know you’ve been hurt, Meri. Everyone has at some point. But how long you hurt is up to you. When are you going to start believing me when I say that what hurts you cannot be?” Leaning down, he pressed a kiss over the evidence that her nerves and emotions were spinning out of control. “When, little love, are you going to start believing in me?”

  Chapter Six

  Nerves had her rubbing her thigh as she stared at the door marked with 412. Asking Mike what room Adam was in had been one of the hardest things she had ever done. No. T
his was.

  She didn’t want to talk to Adam. She didn’t want to come face to face with her past.

  The door opened and her stomach gave an anxious clutch. Adam Payne. His name whispered through her heart, scratching painfully at her memories. It had been one thing to be with him when Mike was with her. It was, she realized, a harsh difference to be with him alone.

  “Hello, Meri-girl.”

  The name hurt because she wasn’t his Meri-girl anymore. She hadn’t been since he had punted her out of his truck, telling her to deal with the problem of their baby. “Can we talk?”

  His ocean eyes looked at her then he stepped aside. Stepping in, she rubbed her thigh. So this is what it felt like stepping into the lion’s den. The room was a typical hotel room, different from the suite Mike preferred. The king-sized bed was messed up from where Adam had been sleeping before she had knocked on his door.

  He had cracked open the mini-bar. Tiny empty bottles were scattered across the desk.

  Her heart gave a painful squeeze and she made herself face Adam. His blonde hair was messy, his jaw covered in stubble. He truly was a gorgeous piece of work. How had hockey not ruined his face?

  They stared at each other, their past a writhing mess of memories between them.

  He leaned against the dresser, the slouch a pose of careless seduction. Adam knew he was good-looking and he used that knowledge. He always had. “I always wondered what happened to you.”

  “I was in a car crash. I miscarried. I could barely walk, let alone skate. None are huge secrets.”

  His green-blue gaze flicked down to her thigh and she made herself stop running her hand over thigh. She couldn’t stop touching the area. Nerves. She wasn’t the same girl he remembered.

  “Give me some credit,” Adam said in a low voice. “I was a kid then too, Meri. I was eighteen and I–,” he exhaled. “I didn’t want a kid. I wanted to leave, I wanted the ice. I wanted you, Meri, never doubt that. I wanted you for so long.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I wanted it all. I’m used to having it all. Spoiled, rich boy with the shiny new toys.”

  “Was I a shiny new toy?”

  “No.” The word was soft, his voice firm. “You were everything. I watched you for months. Watched you skate because you took my breath away, Meri. You were everything.”

  Her heart pounded because there was a but and it was huge. If there wasn’t, he wouldn’t have kicked her out of his truck that long ago day.

  “But it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t have you and the ice. The ice is all.”

  “I once felt that you were with me because you thought I was golden like you. I used to have the ice and then I became pregnant. Can’t compete with a belly.”

  “God damn it, that’s not what I’m saying.” He gave her a little shake. “I didn’t love you because you could skate. I loved you because you loved someone who doesn’t exist. Who will never exist. I am not golden, Meri, I’m a thug on skates who can hit a bullet slap shot. I was never golden. I shone because of you, god damn it. Because of you!”

  “But you left!” She shouted back. “You still left.”

  “I was eight-fucking-teen!” He bellowed. “And you deserved someone who wasn’t a shit-for-brains. Who saw his pregnant teenage girlfriend as a fucking trap because he wanted the world. I was a kid, Meredith. Same as you. Same as fucking you!”

  She blinked as his shout echoed around the room and bounced around in her head. They stared at each other and he swore. He dragged her against him and claimed her mouth with his. It was anger and hurt.

  It was…nothing.

  Easing away, she stared up at Adam who looked angry and aroused. Slowly, she shook her head. “You don’t get me.”

  “Come on, Meri.” His lip curled and she saw that boy again who had kicked her out of his truck. “Then why are you here?”

  “Good-bye, Adam.” She walked toward the hotel door and something lightened in her chest. Adam Payne at thirty was the same person he had been at eighteen. Had she loved the boy? Yes. First love, first heartbreak. He had said it himself, though. The golden boy she had loved existed only in her head. Had loved. Had. Key word there, Meri. Had.

  ****

  Meri tightened the laces of the ice skates. While the rest of the city, including Mike, was at the Stampede and getting their cowboy on, Meri had sought her haven. The skates were a rental and she didn’t like the feel of them. They felt wrong, like they were on the wrong feet. But the ice was almost empty and that made everything perfect.

  She tucked the ear buds for her iPod into place, blocking out the noise of laughter echoing off the ice and open ceiling. This she knew. This was familiar.

  She made her way to the ice, her nose wrinkling at the feel of the skates. She wanted her own.

  She wanted to go home.

  Back to where everything was familiar and she knew what the rules were. The blade made the first slice on the ice and calm settled inside her. After the accident, she had hated the ice.

  What had once been a dream had turned into something…grueling. Her father’s domineering personality for her to “go for gold, Meredith” had taken a lot of joy out of skating. Had she wanted that gold medal that said she was the best? Hell yes. Wasn’t that every competitive athlete’s dream?

  Her routines at the juniors had been flawless. As her grandfather had said to her with a hug, she had been poetic.

  Then a screech of metal had changed it all.

  Nothing like trying to walk again to put things in perspective. The gold medal hadn’t been the pinnacle of her dream. Skating had been the pinnacle.

  She stopped in the middle of the rink and stared down at the ice. The cool air against her skin was recognizable, a welcome kiss. As the familiar drumbeat of Fiona Apple filled her ears, she tapped her toe pick into the ice, keeping rhythm. As soon as the smoky, honey voice flowed out, she began to skate.

  Yes, this world was familiar. She didn’t have to think as she wove around some skaters. A bracket turn had her skating backwards and returning to center ice. She missed jumps. For her there had been no rush like completing a difficult jump. There was too much damage to muscles to land properly now, not that it stopped her when she was coaching.

  She spun instead, hoping the momentum would clear her head. Her hands reached her breasts then automatically reached for the ceiling as she looked up. No men, no sex, no Adam, no Mike, no emotions but this. There was only this.

  Freedom.

  The ice.

  The world was blurry and that suited her just fine. The headless spin slowed, the merry-go-round ride ending so she let the momentum carry her out beyond the center ice where she lost herself in the music and ice.

  Adam Payne.

  The name whispered through her mind and she skated a little faster to escape. She didn’t want to think of Adam, of the past, of the present, anymore. He had dumped her ass in front of her school. End of story.

  But, a little voice whispered in her head, if the story was really over you’d stop being scared of loving Mike.

  She turned her foot and came to a sharp halt, shavings of ice puffing up from the blade. “What hurts you is not allowed.”

  Chapter Seven

  412. The number bounced around his head, making him a little crazy. What had happened in room 412? The text Meri had sent a few hours ago had said she had found an indoor skating rink open despite it being July. He should be relieved she wasn’t with Adam anymore, but he wasn’t.

  He felt irrational and he had no one to blame but himself. He had started this ball rolling. Yes, he wanted Meri happy. But he wanted her to be happy with him.

  Meri skating was bittersweet. He remembered the way she had glided across the ice when she had been ten years younger. She’d been a tiny, fearless temptress on blades. He had seen the makings of a champion when she had skated then. Too bad her father had been a greedy asshole. When it came to the underage athletes, he took their parents into careful consideration since he had to deal with
them.

  And he had hated Samuel Heaven. He was a man who saw gold when he looked at his daughter. Not the golden hair or the way she had gleamed on the ice. No, Meri’s father had seen an Olympic medal on ice. Heartless, cruel, and greedy. And that was before he had known what the dickhead had done when Meri had been in that accident.

  That vivacious girl had grown up.

  Resting his elbows on his knees, Mike watched her gracefully flow on the ice from his spot in the bleachers. She could’ve been alone out there. The girl had seen the ice as a battle to be won. The woman saw it as a lover.

  Far sexier than any routine she had done as a teenager.

  She found a spot free of interruption and extended her right leg behind her and spun elegantly. Once she had said the hardest part of getting back onto the ice was the fear of falling, of being able to do nothing but glide. As she spun, she lowered her leg then skated backwards; one would never know that there was a rod in her leg.

  Finding her hadn’t been as hard as he had considered. He had gone to the concierge of their hotel and asked the location of the nearest skating rink open in mid-July.

  Fuck, she was pretty out there.

  She had been one of the main reasons he had gone after representing Kyla Wilson. Not just because Meri was beautiful and made all the primitive sides of him sit up and growl with want, but because he remembered that girl back in Granville.

  Her speed slowed and she returned to center ice. She came to a stop and stared down at the ice. Meri slid her right foot back and forth, touching her thigh as if she was judging how it felt.

  “Do it,” he said softly against his clasped hands. She pressed the toe pick into the ice, looked around then pushed off. Fine strands of hair rose away from her face as she found the path she wanted.