by Jamie Craig
Her cries turned into screams, and she scrabbled at the wall as the world tilted around her. Spencer's arms only got tighter, his body closer, but she barely felt any of it. All she felt were the ripples radiating outward from the center of her body, finding new life in her skin and stippling it with gooseflesh as she shuddered in his embrace. She vaguely heard herself repeating his name over and over again, though she thought it was more a plea for breath than anything else. Then even that dulled down to a soft roar inside her head.
Rebecca felt his cock throb within her, and he shuddered, his entire frame shaking. He didn't stop rocking against her body, he just gradually slowed, until neither one of them moved, except to take great, gasping breaths. She still needed oxygen when he claimed her mouth again, forcing her to forget she needed anything besides him.
Once they separated, she leaned her head to the side to give him room to rest his forehead against her shoulder. “Sex standing up always makes my legs jelly,” she joked softly.
"Funny, that happens to me, too. Except that has more to do with the person I'm with...” He kissed the spot where her shoulder met her neck. “...than the position we're in."
Her lashes fluttered open, and she glanced down to see the sweat dotting his brow in spite of the shower spray. Unable to resist, she reached to wipe it gently away, letting her fingertips drift down the side of his face. “You always say the sweetest things."
"Must just be that cowboy charm, darlin'.” He kissed her once more before releasing her. “Why don't you finish up in here and I'll see what I can scare up for dinner?"
As soon as Spence moved away, she missed him, but she let him turn under the spray and peel off the condom without stopping him. “I've got plenty of stuff in the fridge. I wasn't sure what you'd be in the mood for, so just help yourself to whatever you find.” She grinned. “But the banana cream pie is for dessert in bed. So don't touch that one yet."
"Yes, ma'am."
She watched him step out of the shadow and grab one of the towels she left out, tying it low, around his hips. Even though she still felt his body imprinted against hers, something about the way he wore his towel made her want more. She couldn't refocus on the shampoo until she heard the bathroom door open and felt a rush of cold air as he slipped into the hall.
Ten minutes later, she emerged from the steamy bathroom in her robe. She found Spence at the kitchen counter, whistling an old Hank Williams song as he built one of the tallest sandwiches she had ever seen. He looked up when she entered the room and grinned.
"I hope you like one with everything."
"Right now, I could eat an old tire, I'm so hungry.” Leaning against the counter at his side, she tilted her head to sweep her gaze down his long, lean body. The towel he'd wrapped around his hips sat low enough to make her want to take it off him right then. “Did you want to curl up on the couch to eat? We could probably find something to watch on TV."
"The couch sounds good. But I can already tell you there's nothing on TV I want to watch.” He glanced up quickly, almost warily. “I wanted to talk to you about something."
"Oh? What?"
Spencer cut the sandwich in two and plated it before answering. “Your plans for the rest of the summer."
Rebecca laughed and pushed off the counter to go to the refrigerator and get a couple cans of root beer. “Why? So I can be all depressed for the rest of the night because my summers are so pathetic compared to yours?"
"Well, actually, I had hoped you would tell me your summer was super pathetic with no plans and no hope for anything fun or exciting. That way, my offer would be far too tempting to refuse."
She followed him out into the living room, tucking her legs up beneath her as they sat down on opposite ends of the couch. “What offer?"
"I was wondering if...” He paused, and if she wasn't mistaken, his cheeks were an unusual shade of red. “I was wondering if you would like to come with me. For the summer. The trailer isn't so bad once you get used to it, but if you don't get used to it, I can just as easily reserve hotel rooms."
Her pulse thundered in her ears. This was the last thing she'd ever expected from Spence. They had fun, and yeah, they got along great and the sex was phenomenal, but neither one of them had ever made noises about being willing to extend it beyond their single night a year. Even the previous summer, when he'd given her the gorgeous leather case for her camera and gear, the issue hadn't been brought up.
She knew she wasn't in love with him. And she didn't delude herself into thinking he was in love with her. But he had recognized the fun they had might be something that could last longer than a single night of the summer. She'd thought so on the odd occasion, even wished their short hours didn't have to end. But the words coming from Spencer stunned her.
"I...” What? She what? She really had no idea, but she tried again. “Wow. I did not expect that."
"I was going to try to be a bit smoother with my approach instead of just blurting it out like this. But I thought we could have some fun, and it would be good for your photography. You could probably make a lot of money shooting the rodeos this summer."
"We could have fun,” she agreed. And making money off photography would be her dream come true. Only one thing stopped her. “But I probably shouldn't."
"Why not?"
"Because of my dad. I shouldn't leave him right now."
Spencer frowned and set his sandwich aside. “Why can't you leave him?"
"He had a heart attack last month. A pretty bad one. He's only been home from the hospital for a few weeks, but he's too stubborn to make all the changes the doctors told him to. I can't just pick up and leave. I'm the only one making sure he's not aiming himself for another one."
Spencer slid across the couch, closing the space between them. “God, that's awful. I'm sorry.” He pushed a strand of damp hair behind her ear. “How have you been holding up?"
"I'm okay.” And she was, mostly. Those first few days afterward had been the worst. Her father had always been a larger than life character to her. Seeing him pale in a hospital bed had shaken her to her core. Leaning into his touch, she gave him a small smile. “Weren't you wondering why I wasn't complaining about him all night?"
"I just thought I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, honestly."
Rebecca slapped at him playfully. “Don't worry. If I have my way, I'll be able to complain about him good and plenty next year."
Spencer smiled. “I hope so.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. He rested his lips against the top of her head, not quite kissing her. “I hope you know you're the only girl I ever asked to come with me."
Though he couldn't see it, she smiled. “And I hope you know you're the only guy I'd ever consider running off to join the rodeo with."
"Good, because if there are any other cowboys trying to lure you away, I'd have to deck them."
"Nope, only you."
"I might still try my luck next year. Your dad should be better by then, right?"
"That's the plan.” Rebecca pulled back enough to meet his serious gaze. “And you can just bet I'll be ready for you."
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CHAPTER 11
Much to Rebecca's amusement and Spencer's chagrin, he began following the soap operas on in the middle of the day. She didn't have a satellite dish or cable, so it wasn't like he had any real options. And soap operas were easy for him to follow once he worked out the complicated relationships between the characters. Jake seemed to like them, too. At least, he didn't seem to mind the time he spent on Spencer's lap while he watched. Becca pretended to be exasperated with the shows, but he caught her attention drifting to the television more than once.
Regardless of how stupid she thought the shows were, she always encouraged him to watch as much as he wanted. She thought concentrating on anything for more than five minutes at a time was a good sign. His ability to remember who all the characters were and what was happening i
mpressed her more. But the storylines never advanced, so Spencer wasn't terribly proud of his capacity to pay attention.
Another benefit of getting caught up in fictional drama was that he forgot his own. Bulls were always on the back of his mind, but when he found something else to concentrate on, he briefly forgot the pain and frustration. When Becca tried to draw him into a conversation about his future, he resisted. If he didn't talk about it, he didn't have to think about it. That seemed obvious enough to him, but he suspected Rebecca didn't appreciate his bullet-proof logic.
The days rolled by as they learned to live around each other. Or rather, Rebecca learned how to continue living her normal life with Spencer right in the middle of it. When he remembered getting better meant leaving her, something hurt in his chest. But he couldn't even consider imposing on her for longer than he absolutely had to. She didn't deserve that. Even if he liked her cute little house, and her comfortable bed, and the way she talked to Jake when she thought he couldn't hear her.
Ten days after he left the hospital, and one week after he wrote Travis, a knock on the door disrupted their routine and distracted him from General Hospital. His fists clenched and his jaw tightened before he reminded himself anger was not a reasonable reaction. It never seemed to take much to set him off.
Becca rose from her seat at the dining room table and stretched with an audible sigh. Her tank top pulled free of her shorts, exposing her soft, smooth stomach. As a distraction from his frustration, it worked. It worked well. So well sometimes Spencer wondered if she did little things like that just to diffuse his temper.
"You didn't order one of those strip-o-grams, did you?” she teased as she headed for the front door.
"In Utah?” Spencer snorted. “I probably couldn't find one. Maybe it's one of your admirers, wondering where you've been hiding."
"Or one of your buckle bunnies, ready to rip my head off for keeping you locked away for so long.” Her broad smile faded slightly when she opened the door, replaced by a politer, more distant version. “Hi, can I help you?"
Though she blocked part of the view, the long, lanky form on the other side of the screen was all too familiar. “Pardon, ma'am, but I'm looking for Spencer Cole. He sent me a letter saying he was staying at this address."
Rebecca immediately brightened. “Oh! You must be his uncle.” Pushing the door open, she held it wide for him to enter. “Come on in."
Spencer straightened, his soap completely forgotten, and Jake jumped from his lap and raced for the door, barking joyously. Jake had always been a fan of Spencer's uncle, if only because the older man usually had a piece of jerky in his pocket. He pushed himself to his feet, partly from habit, but mostly out of pride.
"I didn't expect you to come by so soon,” Spencer greeted.
Travis Cole was closing in on forty years old, each one weathered into his lined face. His hat hid his nearly bald head, while shrewd brown eyes peered out from beneath the slash of his blond brows. He turned that gaze on Spence now, sweeping down his length in swift assessment. The hard set of his jaw said the jury was still out.
"You've been laid up for nearly a month now. Reckon I'm overdue as it is."
"Well, it's good to see you. I've been going a bit stir-crazy.” Spencer turned off the television and gestured to the sofa. “Here, take a load off."
Travis took a half-step toward him before glancing back at Rebecca for approval. She waved him on, shutting the front door with her welcoming smile firmly in place.
"How about I get you two some iced tea?” she offered. “And are you staying for dinner, Mr. Cole? We've got plenty."
"Travis. Call me Travis.” He looked to Spencer. “I was thinking I might take you into town for supper, actually. So you can get me caught up."
Spencer nodded. “Sure, I think I could handle going out for grub.” He glanced over to Rebecca. “Is that all right with you?"
"Oh.” Travis frowned as he hooked his thumb through a belt loop. “I was thinking it would just be you and me. You know. Family.” To Rebecca, “No offense, ma'am."
Her smile had frozen, but a faint pink stain had crept into her cheeks. “Oh, no, I understand. You two need to catch up. You don't need me tagging along."
"But...” But he didn't want to go out to dinner without Rebecca. Especially since she had been bending over backward to prepare three great meals for him every single day. It seemed ungrateful. But, more important, he didn't make a distinction between Rebecca and family. Not after the past three weeks. He looked from her to his uncle, weighing whether or not this battle was worth it. “Well, if you're sure you don't mind, Becca."
"Of course I don't mind.” Her hands fluttered in the direction of her seat at the dining room table. “I've got work to do anyway. And as long as you think you're up to it, I think it's a great idea for you to get out of the house.” This time, the soft smile she shot him was genuine, the one she kept for those quiet moments when everything seemed almost normal. “You and I both know you're made for being outside."
"I guess I can't pass up on any excuse to get out of the house.” He focused on Travis again, though he still felt Rebecca's eyes on him. “There's a diner up the road a bit in Kamas. You hungry now?"
"Starved.” Travis touched the brim of his hat as he nodded at Rebecca, but that was the extent of his communication with her as he retreated for the door.
"I need to grab my hat. I'll meet you out at the truck,” Spencer said. As soon as Travis left the house, Spencer shot Becca an apologetic smile. “What can I say? There's a reason the man travels alone."
"No, it's okay. He doesn't know me from Adam. I don't know if I'd want to share you with a stranger, either."
"Doesn't give him a right to act like a jerk.” Spencer moved around the house fairly easily, and he fetched his hat and his dark glasses from the bedroom without trouble. When he returned, Becca still stood in the living room, and despite her reassurance, he still felt a twinge of guilt. On impulse, he tilted his head and brushed his mouth across hers. “Do you want anything?"
She looked less tense after the brief kiss. She touched the side of his face, letting her fingers trace his jaw for a moment. “Yeah. You to have a nice time. Come back with a smile on, and we'll call it good."
"Yes, ma'am.” He didn't think it would be a hard promise to keep. He may not have liked the way Travis spoke to Rebecca, but he was relieved to see his uncle. If anybody could understand what Spencer was going through, it was Travis.
The sight of Travis's dusty pickup waiting in the drive made Spencer forget the minor incident inside. It had been too long since they'd gotten to spend any kind of quality time together. Easing himself into the worn front seat was as close to coming home as Spencer could ever get.
Travis pulled away without a word, and didn't speak until the house was out of sight. “How's your head doing? Not going to mush being stuck indoors all day, is it?"
"It is mush, but I think that has more to do with the concussion."
"Thought that was supposed to have cleared up by now."
"It's been a gradual process. It's been better this week."
Travis harrumphed, his sinewy arms flexing as he navigated around a curve. “You need to get out and get some fresh air. That'll do you real good, not sitting around on the couch all day."
"Doctor said to take it easy. Besides, I don't want to make things more difficult for Becca."
"Well, there's easy, and there's sitting on your ass. It's good you got someone to help you out, but that don't mean you can't be getting ready to get back on the bull."
Spencer felt his back go up as Travis spoke. Until he mentioned getting back on the bull. Oakley fell away from them as they turned into Marion. “The doc said I shouldn't be riding again."
"Why? ‘Cause you got hurt?” Travis shook his head. “You give up now, and the bull wins. I don't see any reason why we can't work on your left hand. Get some strength in it so you ride that way instead."
Spencer lick
ed his lips. He wanted to jump on his uncle's suggestion. He was more than a little relieved to hear his own thoughts reflected, to know that, despite Rebecca's concerns, he wasn't wrong. But he didn't want to pretend it was as simple as strengthening his left hand.
"Another blow to the head could kill me, too."
"And you could get in a car crash tomorrow. You really want to live like you're too afraid to take chances?"
"No, I don't. That's the last thing I want. Becca's not going to like it, though."
"So? It's not like she's your wife.” A frown creased his brow as he shot a glance at Spencer. “Unless there's something you're not telling me."
"No, she's not my wife. She's...” Spencer turned to watch the passing scenery—which mostly consisted of cows and grass. He wasn't sure how to explain Rebecca to Travis, because as far as he knew, Travis had never had anybody like Rebecca. “She's just a friend."
"So what does it matter if she doesn't like it then? You're a grown man. You do what you want to. Besides, if you don't ride, what else would you do?"
A lumberyard marked their arrival in Kamas, and Spencer gestured forward. “The cafe is on the left side here, just after the bank. And...I don't have anything else to do. You ever thought about what you would do?"
"Do that, and my head's not on the ride. That wouldn't be bright, now would it?"
"No, it really wouldn't be. Where were you thinking we'd do the training?"
Another frown in his direction. “I reckoned I'd take you back to Smiley's down in Tempe. It's been too long since I've seen him. It'd be good to visit."
"I'd like to stay here. At least until the end of the summer."
Pulling into the parking lot, Travis eased into a spot near the front door. “Because of that girl?"
"Because of her. And I like my doctor here."
Travis pulled the keys out and climbed out of the truck without a word. He waited on the sidewalk for Spencer to painstakingly join him before saying, “Well, I guess it'd be easier than trying to get a doctor caught up to speed on your therapy. We could probably stick around for a little bit."