by Jamie Craig
Spencer leaned forward enough to steal another kiss from her. “You know, you don't have to ask. I'm at your mercy. You tell me where to go and what to do."
Her soft fingertips traced the side of his face. “You always get a say with me, Spence. I don't want to just be your nurse."
The sparkling lights and bright bells, the crush of the crowd, the taste of his chili dog, and the heat from the midday sun all faded from his perception. “What else do you want to be?"
"Anything you let me.” She kissed him again, soft, lingering. “One of the best days of my life was the day I met you."
"I don't want you to just be my nurse. But I don't want to make you miserable, either."
She continued to caress his jaw, though she pulled back a few inches, out of reach of more kisses. “I'm beginning to think it'll be worse not having you around at all. I'm not going to lie and say I've changed my mind about how I feel about the training, but anything that might put you in danger is months away. If it ever even happens. Maybe I just need to suck it up and take what I happiness I can get."
Spencer didn't want to tell her to suck it up and live with it, like she didn't have a valid concern. She did. And there was a reason most of the guys he knew on the circuit did not have the greatest relationships. But at the same time, he couldn't tell her what she no doubt wanted to hear. He couldn't form the words.
"You know, training with my left arm isn't just good for riding.” He nodded at the booth behind her. “It's also good for throwing balls at bottles and winning stuffed bears."
"It better be a really big bear,” she said with a grin. Sitting back in her chair, she dug into her fries again, though a new gleam appeared in her eye. “You know, I'm going to have to get a whole bunch of pictures for Dad. Maybe I can get some of you doing stuff around the fair today. I could do a little piece for the paper showing everyone how well you're getting on."
"If you think your dad would be interested in that story. Though he might be more interested in one about me leaving his little girl alone."
"Well, if Dad doesn't like it, I'll offer it to one of the other papers. You have fans. People worry about how you're doing."
"Then I guess I should give my public what they want. A story for them, assuring everybody I'm on the mend, and a big bear for you."
They finished their lunch with more chatter about the various games around the fair. By the time they tossed their garbage in the nearby can, Rebecca had talked him into trying one of the balloon races with her.
"Winner gets to pick what we do next,” she said.
"Does the winner have to stick to fairground activities?"
She led him toward the nearby booth. “Winner has to stick to the fairgrounds. What the winner chooses to do on those fairgrounds is his or her business."
"I think this wager has some potential then.” He picked up the water pistol and eyed it warily. “Of course, I'm not left-handed and so I might not be able to aim with my left eye."
"Consider it a learning experience then.” She hopped on the stool next to him, their thighs rubbing together through their jeans. “Unless you're scared of losing to a girl."
"I'd never complain about losing to a girl if she's a better shot than me.” Spencer leveled the toy gun, closing his right eye to stare down the barrel. “That'd be begging for trouble."
The girl manning the booth came over to take the money Rebecca held out. Within a minute, the rest of the stools were full.
"I dunno,” Rebecca said, as she leaned into position. “I kind of like the idea of you begging a little."
"I'm sure if anybody can get me to beg, it'd be you,” Spence muttered just before the buzzer sounded, marking the beginning of the race. In the first few seconds, Spencer was sure he'd lose. He couldn't aim directly at the clown's mouth, and water sprayed everywhere. He felt, rather than heard, Becca chuckle beside him, and knew he needed to pull it together. He switched eyes and focused more intently, until the spray found the clown's mouth and the balloon above its head began to fill.
The thrill that he might actually do this surged through his veins. A little to the left. He dared a glance at Becca's balloon, but then his finger slipped and he jerked his attention back to his own. Shut it out. Concentrate. The roar of the music and the running commentary actually made it easier to focus. All he had to do was—
A shrill bell pierced the air, declaring a winner. The water trickled out of his gun, and he sat up, looking up and down to see who won.
"Number three,” Becca said. “Looks like we both lose."
Number three didn't look like he was much older than three. He smiled broadly as he accepted his prize, and Spencer glared at him a little.
"I'm suffering from major head trauma,” Spencer said, turning back to Becca, “what's your excuse?"
"The hot guy sitting next to me."
Spencer looked over her shoulder. “Who?"
Sliding off her stool, she scooped her camera case back onto her shoulder. “The one with the great ass. Didn't you see him?"
"No. Are you checking out strange men?"
"Nope. Just the one I plan on crawling into bed with tonight.” She held her hand out. “Ready to move on?"
"I'm ready to hear more about that bit with the bed.” He closed his fingers around hers, but resisted the urge to pull her behind a booth to get a bit of privacy with her. “Where we moving on to? Lady's choice since neither of us won?"
"We could go get some of the livestock shots out of the way. Then we can get back to fun stuff."
"Livestock shots. Thrilling.” He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “Don't you ever feel like you're better than taking pictures of sheep at the county fair?"
They walked in silence for a few steps, her silence as telling as any response she could have given. “Sometimes. But I've got to start somewhere. And it's getting better. More people are noticing my work. Like those fire photos Dad needed. The guy who wanted them said some really nice things."
Spencer didn't doubt that any time her photos made it past the tiny circulation of her father's newspaper, she attracted a great deal of attention. And it killed him to think of her spending the rest of her life being underpaid and underappreciated.
"What do you think it'll take to move on to bigger and better things?"
"Honestly? No clue. Except getting out of Oakley. I still want that."
"I want that for you, too. I wish I could have been the one to help you get out."
She squeezed his hand, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Sometimes, this last year, when I was waiting for the Fourth to come around, I'd think about what it would have been like. You and me. On the road. Those were some of my best daydreams."
"I'd think about it, too. When I got lonely. Or when I wanted to celebrate a particularly high-scoring ride. Jake's a good dog, but he leaves a bit to be desired when it comes to companionship."
"I almost went and saw you at Nationals last year. Then I thought, maybe you wouldn't want me dropping in unannounced."
"Why wouldn't I want you to visit me?"
Rebecca glanced at him before replying. “Because we only see each other once a year. And I've got eyes. I know you see other girls."
"I didn't have any girls with me at Nationals. And even if I had, I would have spent my time with you."
Her smile made him want to lean in and kiss her all over again. “We do go pretty good together."
"Yeah. Like chili and hotdogs."
"Or tequila and lime."
"Or Froot Loops and beef jerky.” He squeezed her fingers. “A combination you would have learned to love if you traveled with me."
"You mean that's your fault and not Jake's? I owe that poor dog an apology."
"I think we both owe that poor dog an apology,” Spencer said as they stepped into the long Quonset hut that served as the display case for all kinds of sheep. His nose wrinkled automatically, even though he was accustomed to the stench of livestock. But nothing could eve
r prepare him for the immediate nasal assault of sheep.
He didn't know what Becca wanted for her pictures, so he followed her quietly, watching as she framed belligerent goats and docile sheep and their camera shy keepers with equal dexterity. It only reconfirmed his opinion that she was too good for this gig—far, far too good.
After the sheep, they moved on to the cattle. The beasts piqued his interest a little bit—though not much. There were bulls, but none of them were good enough stock to be considered for the circuit. Still, there was something familiar, comfortable, and exhilarating about being near them. Bulls had an energy no other animal matched. He expected to feel a twinge of fear now that he had come face to face with an animal big enough to kill him, but he didn't feel anything like that.
"Spencer Cole?"
The voice came from off to his left, and Spence turned to see a gangly teenager standing just a few feet away, an excited smile splitting his acne-scarred features. His hands were shoved in his tight jeans, but as soon as Spence met his eyes, he pulled them out and took a few steps forward, thrusting one forward in greeting.
"I can't believe it's you,” the kid said. “I've seen you ride so many times. After—” He noticed the sling for the first time, and immediately looked down at his own hand, letting it drop back to his side. “I didn't know you were going to be here."
Spencer smiled. “I didn't exactly alert the media. What's your name?"
His grin broadened. “Kevin, sir. Kevin Kelsey."
Spencer grimaced. “It's good to meet you Kevin, but I don't think you need to call me sir."
Horror widened Kevin's eyes. “Oh, I didn't mean to offend you, sir—Mr. Cole. Habit, I guess. My mom would kill me if I didn't say it.” The grin returned. “Though I think she might make an exception in this case. She's as big a fan as I am."
"That's good to hear.” He looked over the kid's head, but Rebecca was on the other side of the building. “So you came around here to look at the bulls?"
"Actually, I'm showing one.” Kevin pointed to a black Texas longhorn a third of the way down. “I came around to look at the competition."
"Oh?” Spencer moved toward the bull, Kevin following close at his heels. “He's a good looking animal. You raise him yourself?"
"Yeah.” The pride in his voice was unmistakable. “This is my first year getting to show. I'm hoping me and Buck do good, ‘cause my dad said if we place, he'll let me have another."
Spencer wasn't as familiar with the requirements judges used in fairs, but he thought the boy had a chance at placing. “You ever try to ride one?"
"Once. But it was a lot scarier than I thought it would be, so I haven't done it again.” Kevin looked at Spencer almost shyly. “That's what's so great about when you ride. You don't look scared of nothin'."
"Between you and me, I get scared a lot.” His gaze drifted back to Rebecca. “It's easy to be brave when you don't have anything to lose, though."
Kevin didn't notice his distraction. “So if you're doing better, does that mean you're going to be riding again soon? I can't wait to see you in the arena again."
"Soon? I don't know. I guess the doctor has to give me the okay and...” He lifted his sling. “I've got to wait until I'm not wearing this contraption anymore. Otherwise, I'll lose my balance and get my head knocked in again."
"Well, I'll be watching. And my mom.” He brightened. “Oh! If I can find her, do you think you'd sign something for her? It'd make her year."
"Sure, I'll sign something. For both of you, if you want. I'll wait here for you."
"Thanks!"
With a bemused grin, Spencer watched him race off. As soon as he was alone, Rebecca returned.
"Who was that?"
"Kevin Kelsey. My second-biggest fan, apparently."
"What did you say to him to make him run out of here like that?"
"I'd sign some autographs. Though they won't be very pretty signatures.” He flexed his left hand. “I can barely hold a pen, yet."
"Take it from your number one fan...” She looped her arms around his waist and pressed close. “What the signature looks like means absolutely nothing. It's all about those few seconds of getting to see you."
He returned the embrace and rested his mouth on the top of her head. Even in the middle of a hot barn, she smelled good. “You need to stick around for much longer?"
"I think I've got enough animal shots. We can go hit the rides after your autograph session. Have some us time."
"I think I'm getting a bit tired. How about we go home and have some us time?"
She pulled back enough to meet his eyes, and smiled straight away. “I like that idea even better."
"Good.” Spencer liked fair rides, but his head was spinning enough without the added stimulation. And it didn't have anything to do with the aftereffects of the concussion. Becca had given him a lot to think about. A lot more than he had counted on.
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CHAPTER 14
Though Spence never made another complaint about being tired, Rebecca kept a wary eye on him the entire time she raced home. She caught him glancing at her speedometer more than once, but he never said a word, just squeezed her hand a little bit tighter and smiled.
Each time he did, her heart twisted. The day had not gone as she'd expected. She'd had every intention of keeping the distance, even if the past few days had been torture. But then he'd asked to go with her, and he'd gotten all dressed up, and she'd looked in those puppy dog eyes, and...
Lost. That's what she was.
It was silly to pretend she wasn't falling for him. She had never liked anyone like she did Spencer Cole. And he liked her. Nobody had ever treated her like he did, either. When they were in the moment, and acting like they always had—none of this nurse/patient crap, but the real stuff, the touching and the joking and the smiles and all of it—nothing compared. She realized, too, maybe it was a little silly to be terrified of something that might not ever happen. Better to embrace what she could have now than worry about a future that didn't necessarily have to come.
She rolled to a stop in front of the house. The sun was still high, with plenty of time left in the day to develop the pictures her father wanted. But Rebecca wasn't interested in working on a few photographs right then. She had promised Spence time for just the two of them, and nothing would stop that from happening.
She went around to his side of the truck out of habit, and though he happily wrapped his arm around her for support, she suspected he didn't need it. Every time she let herself close the distance between them, Spencer took the chance to touch her. Which she didn't mind at all. She couldn't keep her hands to herself, either.
As soon as Rebecca closed the front door behind them, Spencer pushed her against it. She parted her lips for the inevitable kiss, but he paused, his mouth hovering above hers. “Hey, this part of our date is familiar."
She smiled. Though she knew what he meant, she said, “I don't remember any bodies slamming against doors. Who else are you bringing into my home, mister?"
Spencer skimmed his lips over hers. “Do you want a list of names? Because I don't remember those."
"Ha.” She dug her hand into his hip, delighting in the hard lines. “I totally knew you were going to use that amnesia thing to cover your ass one of these days."
"You have to admit, it's pretty convenient. I could milk this for years.” His lips moved across her jaw and down her neck. The tip of his tongue against her skin made her shiver. “If I can't remember your birthday, I'll just blame it on the serious head trauma."
Her eyes flickered shut as fresh warmth burned its way through her body. Not just at what his talented mouth was doing. At the implication in his words.
"You'd have to know when my birthday is, first.” She tugged at his T-shirt, desperate to feel the smooth skin. The moment her fingertips made contact, she sighed in satisfaction.
"February twenty-fifth."
Surprise shot through her. �
��How'd you know that?"
"I have my ways.” Spencer pulled her skin between his teeth and sucked gently. “You left your wallet out on the table and I saw your driver's license."
"Ew, and my crappy picture? How can you still want to kiss me after being subjected to the DMV photo of doom?"
"Oh, I thought it was cute. You looked like a little homeless girl."
Rebecca groaned as he caressed the side of her breast, his thumb flicking across the hard tip of her covered nipple. Such a simple touch shouldn't have felt so good, but she had been waiting an eternity to feel him again. Sleeping beside him was amazing. So was touching him whenever she wanted. But his limited mobility had made those few nights they shared more innocent than anything they had ever done before. This was the release they had both been hungry for.
"Well, this little homeless girl is going to remember you said all that. In fact, I have a feeling I'm going to remember everything about today for a very long time."
"Then my master plan worked.” His touch became bolder, his palm closing over her breast and pressing against her nipple. Her flesh responded through her T-shirt and bra, tightening and aching to feel his mouth. “Let's move this to the couch."
Sunlight had ripened to rich, honeyed tones, splashing across the room as Spencer took her hand and tugged her away from the door. She'd go anywhere he led, she realized. She always had.
He sat down in the middle, but when he tried to pull her down with him, Rebecca resisted. “Not yet.” She stepped back, beyond his reach, and dropped her hands to her waistband. “When I'm done...” She toed off her shoes as she slowly pushed her shorts and underwear down her hips, making sure Spencer got the best view possible. “You're next."
Spencer's attention was locked on her body, and she didn't miss the obvious lust blazing in his eyes. His gaze traveled up her figure, lingering on the soft curls between her thighs. He didn't look away when she pulled her T-shirt overhead, but he focused on her breasts as soon as she dropped her bra to the floor.
"God, I love the way you look."
Pure pleasure settled in her veins. On a whim, she cupped her breasts, letting her thumbs toy with the dusky tips of her nipples. They filled her palms, soft and heavy. The heat in Spencer's eyes sent shivers through her thighs.