“You’re not a prisoner here. Just pack up and go.” Murphy grabbed another one of Tyler’s good beers and leaned against the bar.
“And let El and the dufus brothers get this place? No effing way.”
Derek watched him like a man who knew him too well. “Make them a deal. Sell it and split the profits. Homer knows a good Realtor.”
“Homer is a Realtor.”
“Let him sell it. Then everyone’s happy. They have money, and you never have to come back here again.”
Tyler didn’t answer. He clamped his jaw shut, not certain if Derek truly believed he should sell the place or if he was needling him.
His cousin took a step closer and stared at him. Really stared. “I know that look.”
“What look?”
“You don’t want to sell this place. It means something to you.”
“Like hell. I’m not a sentimental fool like you. Unfortunately, the economy’s too bad to get a decent price for it right now.”
“Yeah, sure.” Derek wasn’t fooled. “You’re a sentimental fool, Tyler Jackson Harris.”
Tyler refused to meet his gaze. A month ago, he’d have sold his family’s legacy in a heartbeat.
Now? Well, yeah, he still would, given the right offer, just like he’d sold his soul one too many times.
* * * * *
Lavender stared at Tyler standing in her doorway. His big body filled up the entire doorframe. The rain dripped off the rim of his Stetson, puddling on her miniscule, saggy front porch. He wore a dark blue sweater that matched his eyes, butt-hugging jeans, and his cowboy boots. Damn, but the boy did look hot. Sexy hot. Scalding sexy hot.
“So, cowboy, looking for a rodeo?” She cast her come-hither look his way.
His eyes darkened as a slow, sexy smile changed the harsh landscape of his handsome face. “I hear you’re a champion bull rider, darlin’.”
“You heard right. And I hear you’re a champion bull.”
“Comparisons between the size of my boys and a bull’s have been made on occasion.” He pushed past her into the small living room and tossed his hat on a chair. Turning, he stepped into her, filling up every square inch of the room with his presence.
“Show me.” She stood on tiptoes and scraped her teeth across his jaw.
“Keep that up, honey, and we won’t even make it out of the chute.” With a heavy sigh, he put his hands on her shoulders and held her away from him. “I’ll take a rain check. First, I’m taking you out to a nice dinner.”
“You’re taking me out?” In the two months he’d been on the island, he’d never asked her out for a measly cup of coffee, let alone dinner. Of course, she didn’t care because she didn’t like him.
“Yeah, I’m taking you out.” His crooked smile melted her heart. She spread her palm over his chest. He covered her hand with his then wrapped his fingers around hers and lifted her hand to his mouth. His kissed it, palm up, gentle and careful. His sweet reaction turned her on more than any of the raunchy, headboard-banging sex they’d had to date, and that was saying a lot. A damn lot.
“Why?”
“I’m hungry and I don’t like to eat alone.”
“I have to think about this. Where?”
“The Partridge Inn.” Those dark blue eyes pinned her down and rendered her breathless.
She swallowed and struggled for her voice. “Are you serious? That place is expensive. They don’t have prices on the menu.”
“Don’t worry. I think I can afford it this once.”
Lavender studied his face. He looked away, shuffled his feet, seemed almost embarrassed. His behavior was completely out of character. “I still don’t get it. Why?”
“Because—Because I don’t want you to think that you’re just a good lay to me. You’re a damn fine lay. Besides, a good argument always whets my appetite.” He still wouldn’t look at her.
“Fine. I’m all for a free gourmet meal.”
“I hope you’re hungry.”
“Hungry? I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day. I’ve been weeding that damn vegetable garden. Give me a few minutes to take a shower and clean up.”
“Sure.” He sank onto her couch and started flipping through the channels.
Not caring how anxious she appeared, Lavender vaulted over a pile of clothes on the floor and dove into the bathroom. Clothes flying, she turned on the water and stepped into the combination tub/shower. She couldn’t believe one little date with a man she’d been sleeping with for a month could affect her this much, but it did. Not only that but it made her day.
The hot water ran down her face, sluiced across her naked body. She closed her eyes and let it flow. Tyler asked her out. Sure, she’d be stupid to think this date meant anything beyond this island, but she didn’t care. She’d live for the moment and deal with the painful aftermath down the road.
Lavender picked up the bar of lavender-scented soap—was there any other kind?—and started to soap her body until it was stolen from her hand. She groaned as Tyler pulled her against his hard male body.
“I guess dinner can wait.” Her mumbled response faded into the mist of the shower.
Tyler lathered up her stomach, upward to her breasts, and across her shoulders, taking his damn sweet time. She leaned back against him and closed her eyes. The heat of the water combined with the heat of his body until she didn’t know where one started and the other ended.
He ran his hands back down her body. Pushing her gently against the wall, he soaped up her back and ass, sliding his hands between her legs and rubbing her thighs. Lavender flattened her hands against the wall and slid her feet back a few steps. She spread her legs and bent down. Water streamed down her back and funneled off her erect nipples.
“Someone wants some cock.” Tyler slid those masterful fingers up the insides of her thighs.
“Duh.” She sputtered on a mouthful of water.
“How bad do you want it?” His hips pressed close behind hers. His dick tickled her crotch. He reached around her body and caught her tight nipples in his fingers, teasing her, driving her out of her mind. Capturing each taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he squeezed, hard, until she whimpered for him to stop or go or, hell, what the heck did she know? She just wanted more.
“Bad. Really bad. I want you.”
“Yeah? Show me.” One big hand slid between her legs. She shuddered. His index finger slid with ease into her wet pussy. He pumped his finger in and out as she pressed her pussy against his hand, angling for him to hit her sweet spot. He pushed another long finger inside her and took her fast and furious with his fingers. She shattered like a china cup on a slate floor. Just like that. No prelude. Just a weak-willed body, weaker knees, and a quivering pussy.
A few seconds later, his big cock powered into her in one swift, hard stroke, no time for recovery. He filled her completely. Thoroughly. Incredibly.
Hands gripping her hips, Tyler held himself there, as the water ran down both their naked bodies. Lavender fought to regain control of her spiraling emotions. No such luck. She’d lost her sanity the second he’d set foot in the shower.
He pushed high and hard into her. Touching her in those places only he could touch her, which she’d begun to realize had nothing to do with the size of his cock or how full she felt with him buried inside her.
Hell no, it went deeper than that. Deeper than anyone had ever touched her, physically and emotionally.
Tyler Harris had her number. If only she had his.
He started moving in and out of her. His motions were controlled and constricted, as if he knew he’d snap at a moment’s provocation. Her fuzzy brain whispered something about a condom, but she’d gone past caring minutes ago. Then he held her from behind when he let himself go. His cock jerked inside her. He withdrew and rammed back into her. Hands pinching her nipples, he rode her hard and rough, until his body spasmed, and his release came.
Together, they leaned against the wet shower walls, chests heaving, sanit
y slowly returning, bodies weak but satisfied.
“I didn’t wear a rubber,” he panted.
“It’s okay, I’m on the pill.” She squinted at the wet wall but couldn’t see straight.
“Why the hell didn’t you ever mention that before?” He relaxed against her.
“I don’t know.” She did know. Doing it without a condom seemed more intimate. She felt his seed inside her, felt it dripping from her wet slit, knew he’d left a part of him with her.
She’d never had sex without a condom before. Never in her life. But then, she’d experienced a lot of firsts with her arrogant jock.
Straightening, he smacked her ass, and she yelped. “Get ready for dinner.”
On that note, he exited the shower and left her alone to get ready. Lavender slid down the wall and buried her face in her hands. She’d given him something tonight, and he hadn’t a clue regarding the significance of her actions, the kind of trust it invoked.
But Lavender knew.
Chapter 20—Turned over on Downs
Tyler glared at Jim, but the old man didn’t blink through his Coke-bottle glasses. Obviously, he needed new spectacles because Tyler had used his best you’re-in-deep-shit glare. Jim sipped his drink and studied the cards in his hand, as if he could see them. The rest of the brothers ignored him. Nothing interrupted their poker games, not even a two-time Super Bowl quarterback.
“You fucking”—five pairs of eyes looked up at him—“frigging can’t force me to miss mini-camp. The rumor sluts everywhere will be certain I’m in rehab or about to be traded or just don’t give a shit.”
Jim raised one bushy eyebrow. “No one’s stopping you from going.”
“Yeah, and you and your buddies will be taking over my mansion—as if you haven’t already.” Tyler couldn’t help notice Jim held a full house in his hand.
“Nah. It’s not worth much beyond bulldozing. No one has the money to restore that place,” Homer muttered. “If you’d just let me sell it for you. I have several—”
“—potential buyers lined up. I know. I know.” Tyler bristled and rose to their unintentional challenge. Maybe he’d restore the damn dump to its former splendor if it took every penny he had just to spite them all. With a few more prime endorsements, he’d garner a chunk of change and just might earmark the cash for mansion rehab. He snorted to himself. Easier said than done. To keep those endorsements coming in, he’d need to win.
“It’s not just mini-camp; the awards ceremony for the Pacific Northwest Athletic Association is that evening.” Missing mini-camp and the awards would send the national media into a feeding frenzy, especially since he’d most likely get Northwest Athlete of the Year for the second straight year.
“Go for it. The last ferry back to the island sails at eleven p.m. You’ll need to be on it each night. No overnighters on the mainland.”
“How will you know if I come back or not?”
The brothers looked at him as a unit and glanced at Lavender hustling between the tables.
“Fine. I’ll charter a seaplane.” Tyler downed the last of his beer and snapped his fingers at Lavender for another. She rewarded him with an eff-you scowl. He grinned, pleased that he’d managed to get under her skin with his little display of chauvinism. Hopefully, his surliness wouldn’t backfire, or he’d end up wearing the beer instead of drinking it.
“Fine, as long as your feet are on the island by midnight.” Jim held the cards six inches from his nose. The man really was blind.
“Midnight? Are you fucking kidding me? What’s up with that? Will I turn into a damn pumpkin?” Tyler’s sarcastic tone didn’t faze the guys either. Lavender appeared by his side, the tip jar in one hand and his beer in another. He dug in his pocket and stuck a twenty in the jar. He grabbed the beer and chugged it. The stuff tasted like crap, absolute crap. He choked on it and turned his irritation on purple lady. “What the fuck is this garbage?”
“Light beer. You’re getting a little pudgy.”
“I am not.” Tyler frowned and looked down at his waist. Lavender laughed at his reaction. Her sassy humor turned him on even when he happened to be the brunt of it. Maybe he could goad her into a good argument later. Fighting made him hornier than hell for make-up sex.
“Clean up your potty mouth. I bet your momma didn’t raise you to talk like that.”
Tyler didn’t have a comeback for that. His mother sure as hell didn’t allow cussing in her presence. “Hey, I’ve been working on it. I’m wounded that you haven’t noticed.”
“Work harder. When you get pissed, your swearing comes back with a vengeance. It’s as much a part of you as your throwing arm and insufferable personality.”
Stupidly, he took the bait. “I went cold turkey for a week. Remember?”
“One whole week. Impressive. You use the F word to the point it’s lost its effect.”
“Whatever.”
“You can’t stop, can he, guys?” The old geezers nodded, not about to cross the sergeant major.
“You want me to quit, no problem.” Tyler regretted rising to her challenge. “We’re just talking the F word, right? No other swear word?”
Lavender nodded, looking awful damn cute thinking she’d gotten the best of him. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”
“Fine. I’ll stop. No big deal, but what do I get out of it?
“The satisfaction of a job well done.”
“That’s it?” Annoyed, Tyler turned back to Jim. “I can’t even spend one night off this fu—fricking island?”
Unconcerned, Jim continued to stare at him. “Those are the terms of the will. You’re allowed off-island excursions, but you must be on the island by midnight the same day. Oh, and you’ll need to take a chaperone appointed by me.”
“A chaperone? What the fu—fudge do I need a chaperone for?” Tyler’s temper flared, but he reined it in. He gripped the back of a nearby chair, seriously wanting to throw the damn thing across the room. This senior citizen attorney tested his severely strained patience.
“To keep you in compliance. Lavender will go.”
“What?” Lavender sputtered and shook her head. “I’m not going to Seattle with him. We don’t like each other.”
“Except for the sex part, honey. We like that just fine.” Tyler grinned when she smacked his arm.
“Shut up.” Lavender’s glare didn’t faze him. He’d be wearing the next beer, of that he was certain. The old men hooted and slapped their hands on the table. Lavender turned her homicidal glare on them, and they hushed immediately. She faced Tyler. “I’ll miss a few days of work. This’ll cost you.”
He pulled out his wallet and waved a credit card in her face. “Does this help?”
She snatched it from his hand and shoved it in her pocket. “You’ll be sorry.”
“I doubt that.” His dirty mind worked overtime. Flying back and forth to the mainland had its advantages, especially at night. He’d initiate Lavender into the mile-high club—not that they’d be flying quite that high—but it was the spirit of the gesture that mattered the most.
“I’ll see to it.”
Damn, but he loved it when she threatened him like that. Her sexy butt swayed with each step and mesmerized him until one of the brothers cleared his ancient throat.
“It’s settled then.” Jim turned back to his poker game. “I fold, guys.” He tossed his full house on the table.
Tyler shook his head at Jim and walked away with a definite lift to his step. He wandered into the back room where the military museum was housed, avoiding the picture of his father. Instead, he painstakingly looked at each picture and exhibit item, reading each description before moving to the next. His dad’s picture kept calling to him. He felt its invisible pull. No matter where he stood in the room, he was acutely aware of the eight-by-ten of Jason Harris.
The picture sucked him in until he stood staring down at it. His father stared back. The empty hole inside him grew bigger. Like a physical thing, it hurt like hell. It h
urt to breathe, like the time Murphy had sacked him, and he hadn’t been sure he’d ever get back up.
Damn, he missed his dad, missed his sensible guidance, and missed shooting the shit with him. They’d sit up for hours after a game and analyze the hell out of it, giving both wins and losses equal attention. If only his dad had lived to see him play college ball, win the Rose Bowl, and two Super Bowls. If only—
Tyler heard purple lady laugh in the next room, acutely aware of her. His father would’ve enjoyed Lavender, especially her irreverence toward his son’s jock status. His sisters and mother, heaven forbid, would enjoy combining wits with her on how best to take Tyler down a peg. He’d be in deep shit if that ever happened. Of course, it wouldn’t. He kept his fu—sex buddies and his family separated.
His rarely used conscience smacked him up the side of the head, claiming foul. Tyler disregarded that nagging voice demanding to be heard. If he listened, he might be forced to admit Lavender meant more to him than a willing body. Even worse, he might be forced to examine what he really wanted out of life and why none of his accomplishments to date amounted to more than a pile of crap.
He looked into his father’s blue eyes, so much like his own. Even after all these years, a lump of grief settled in his stomach.
“Do you think I’m a failure, or are you proud of me, Dad?” he croaked in a hoarse voice.
The man in the photograph didn’t answer.
* * * * *
“Tyler, who were you talking to?” Lavender stood in the doorway, keeping her distance, emotionally and physically. If she didn’t tread carefully, she’d do something stupid like fall for the obnoxious jock. How she’d survive a couple days flying back and forth crammed into a float plane with him, she couldn’t imagine. The credit card did soften the blow, though.
Tyler stiffened and kept his back to her, a very fine, broad back with incredibly wide shoulders and one fine, fine ass. For a moment, she closed her eyes and time-traveled to last night, and their first “unprotected” sex.
Snap Decision: The Originals (Seattle Steelheads Series Book 2) Page 19