by Nina Crespo
They shook hands. “I’m Drew.”
Peter stepped behind him. “I take it this isn’t your first triathlon.”
“What gave me away?”
“You don’t have a sample of a power bar or some new energy drink in your hand.”
Drew laughed, happy to talk to someone else with miles of experience under his belt. “Have you done this race before?”
“I was here two years ago.” Peter studied Hannah, who played with the sunglasses hanging from the collar of his T-shirt. “I would have done it last year, but I pulled out of training a month before the race.”
“Injury?”
“No. I was busy preparing for that little guy.”
Drew followed Peter’s gaze to a woman holding a baby. His heart tripped in his chest. Peter’s wife whispered to the baby and waved his hand at his father. The inner radiance that bloomed with the auburn-haired woman’s smile reminded him of Tab.
“My training partner was pissed. He couldn’t understand why I changed my mind. I’d always been so locked in and competitive, but one morning, I started to get out of bed for an early morning run, and I looked at Jill.” Peter glanced over his shoulder. He shrugged and contentment reflected in a lopsided grin. “Can’t explain it, but suddenly, a medal waiting at the finish line didn’t matter. She did, and I don’t regret it.”
Drew faced forward. At one time, he’d envisioned what Peter had, a wife and a family, on his horizon. After the accident, he’d buried it as an impossible fairy tale. Something he didn’t deserve because he’d taken Shana’s dream away. Did he want that again? Before he could stop it, the vision of him, Tab and a smaller version of the two of them formed before his eyes. Waiting for him, standing with him, finishing the races they chose to run…together.
He completed sign-in and went to the restaurant, but he had no appetite. Drew forced down enough grilled salmon to make it worth his while and returned to his hotel. As he walked past the front desk, the concierge flagged him down.
“Mr. Bode, this came for you, special delivery.”
He accepted the small box. Texas address. His heart sped up. Pangs of uncertainty and anger tightened his chest. Nothing in a box could change what happened. She’d forced Shana back into his life, made decisions she deemed okay because of the outcome. She’d damaged their relationship and abused his trust.
In his room, he started to toss the box aside. Shit. He didn’t need this hanging over his head before the race. Drew tore into the package. The red striped tie she’d taken to seal their deal. She could have patched him up that night and said “hell no” in typical Tab fashion, but she’d bargained with him instead. She’d given Bob what he’d wanted. Gotten him what he wanted. What had she asked for in return? A chance to eradicate what she didn’t care for. Damn red ties. She didn’t want to eradicate him. She wanted to improve him. Tab wasn’t like Shana at all. How had he missed it?
Shana had made the worst decision possible by hiding the truth instead of standing up for herself and ending their relationship. Seeing her in his home and hearing what she’d said had highlighted so strongly how she didn’t fit. She’d never belonged in his life, but he’d relentlessly stayed the course believing he could dismantle the obstacles. He’d paid for that mistake. Tab came at him head on, sass and all. Shana had only cared about his image. Tab cared about him as a man. Changing his wardrobe was just her way of expressing what she saw in him. The best, not the worst.
It’s time for you stop running away and head toward what you really want.
Devin was right. Now that he no longer fought demons or dreams about the past, what did he have to look forward to at the end? If Tab were in his life, she’d be waiting for him at the finish line. She’d celebrate with him no matter if he finished first or last. Like Peter, he wouldn’t give a damn about a medal. Drew opened his suitcase and started tossing in his things. Correction. He didn’t give a shit about chasing medals. He gave a damn about Tab.
…
Soaked in sweat from T-shirt to boots, Tab tucked her work gloves into the back pocket of her jeans and wiped her brow. Spending the afternoon with her mother exercising horses and cleaning out stalls helped clear her mind.
Her mother joined her outside the stable and released a breath. “I got a call from your father. He’ll be here in a little over an hour. He’s speeding. That’s the only way he made it back so fast from Nevada.” She shook her head. “How many times have I told him to slow down? What am I going to do with him?”
Even in the midst of a rant, her mom’s eyes sparkled. Jasmine’s did too, whenever she talked about Ethan. Was it the same type of heart-bursting happiness she’d felt with Drew? Would she ever feel it again?
Her mom pulled her button-down shirt from her skin, fanning for air. “Do you mind helping with dinner? Nothing fancy, steaks on the grill, baked potatoes, and a salad with those tomatoes we picked this morning. Maybe an apple cobbler, too. Your dad would love that.”
Tab’s stomach rumbled. “Sounds good. I just need to shower and change.”
They walked down the bricked path leading to the house. A gray, Jeep SUV sat in the circular, pebble-stone driveway.
Tab’s mom gripped her arm. “Shit, that’s probably Darla.”
“I take it she’s not a friend.”
“No, she’s a straight-up pest, but she’s also head of the women’s social league. I forgot she mentioned picking up a check for whatever thing the group’s planning next month.” Her mother swore under her breath. “She never knows when to leave.”
“Do you want me to get rid of her?”
“You could slap that woman silly, and she still wouldn’t take the hint.” Her mom let out a breath. “Well, let’s get this over with. I’ll take care of Darla. You go upstairs and—”
“What?” Tab followed her gaze. Lightheadedness swept over her. “Drew.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Well I can certainly understand why you’d want to preserve his gonads.”
Heat flashed into Tab’s face. “Mom!” she whispered.
Chuckling, her mother patted her cheek. “That’s better. You got some color back into your face. We can’t do anything about those dark circles under your eyes, but I suspect a few nights in the saddle with him will take care of that.”
Drew in the driveway, her mother going on about gonads and saddles. Tab closed her eyes. Please bury me.
“He’s walking to meet us.” Her mom squeezed her hand. “It’s simple. Listen to him. Say your piece, and then apologize for the things you’re sorry about. The rest will fall into place. I’ll be inside the house watching for a signal to bring out iced tea or my shot gun.”
Her mom headed down the path, and she followed several steps behind. Drew paused, obviously planning to introduce himself. Her mom stalled him with a raised hand and kept walking. “Save it. My daughter will determine if we need to bother with a proper introduction.”
Drew stared at her mother’s back, then shifted his attention to her.
She cringed. Straw in her hair and crap on her boots, but he looked…wonderful.
She’d added the black T-shirt and jeans to his wardrobe. Not that he had a choice of what to wear. The day the truck came, she’d talked him into giving away more than suits and ties to charity.
As he walked toward her, images flashed. The first time they’d met at the barbecue. Picking him up in the rain. Living together and disagreeing on everything. Burrowing into his chest as he told her a bedtime story. Making love.
Tongue tied, she latched on to the first question that popped up. “How did you find me?” Lame, so lame…and obvious.
“Jasmine.” He looked around. “I thought she was crazy for giving me all those landmarks, but now I understand. Without them, I would have never found this place.”
“No, not easy.” Could she at least form longer sentences? What did mom say? Listen first, then apologize. Was she still listening or should she start apologizing? Did she have t
o name everything? That could take hours. Damn, he smelled so good.
He took her hand, and her mouth jolted to life.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you. I never—”
He yanked her forward and planted a possessive kiss on her lips. Bone-melting desire weakened her knees.
The kiss ended, but moments passed as she searched for words. “I was trying to apologize.”
“Don’t. I know you weren’t trying to hurt me. When it happened, I wasn’t ready, but you were right. Shana and I did need to talk.” He cupped her face. “But you should have done one thing first.”
“What?”
“Communicated.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “You should have told me the plan and let me decide. You have to give us a chance to agree to disagree, and still find a way through it. Do you think you can do that next time?”
Next time? “I promise.” She tamped down excitement. “Is that what you came all this way to tell me?”
“That’s part of it.” He stroked the pads of his thumbs across her cheeks. “If you’re still crazy enough to think about it, I’d still like to explore our options. Something a lot less casual than we talked about.”
A wide grin pushed up her lips before she could stop it. “I’ve been told crazy is my middle name.”
“I’m serious.” He lowered his head until their foreheads touched. “I want us to take a real shot at being together, not a fling.”
Someone to kiss good-bye in the morning, have dinner with at night, and snuggle with on lazy weekends…domesticated bliss. “Okay, I’m all in, but can I please take a shower before we talk? I’m a hot mess.”
He held her by the waist and flashed a sly grin. “Need help.”
She laughed. “I’m doing it alone, and you better wipe that smile off your face. My mother walked onto the porch. She brought you iced tea.”
His smile dimmed. “Why does she have a shot gun?”
“She’s impatient about getting dinner started. You are staying?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Of course you do.” Sincerity crept in. She rested her hands on his chest. They’d have to start with honesty, especially about the past. “Can you stick around for a few days? I’d like to show you the ranch and tell you more about Corey.”
“Sure I can.” He gave her a half-smile. “I need to tell you about my passenger-seat phobia.”
“Passenger-seat phobia?” She waited for the punch line. “You’re serious.”
“As a heart attack. It’s been a problem I’ve faced since the accident.”
Realization dawned. “So my driving wasn’t the problem when I picked you up from the side of the road.”
A chuckle burst from his mouth. “Oh no, your driving was absolutely the problem.”
“Hey”—she punched him playfully in the stomach—“there’s nothing wrong with my driving.”
He deflected her blows. “I know. You’ve been handling monster trucks since you were knee-high to a cow.”
“Smart-ass.”
“Would you stop? Something tells me your mother has an itchy trigger finger, and I’d like to avoid getting a load of buckshot in the ass.”
“Then stop teasing or you won’t get the surprise I’m planning for later in our hotel room.” She trailed her fingers along his zipper, smiling at the rise of future compensation.
“Won’t your parents have a problem with us not spending the night?”
“They’ll understand.” She wound her arms around his neck. “Tomorrow’s my birthday and I have a full bag of Naughty Little Wishes.”
Drew’s gaze darkened with a look of pure seduction. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah, and more importantly I have a birthday dare to settle.” She rose on her toes and brushed soft kisses up his cheek to whisper in his ear. “And the only one I want at my party is you.”
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Acknowledgments
Thank you to my own real-life hero for patiently listening to every version of this story. To Heather Howland, Kari Olson, and all the wonderful people at Entangled Publishing—thank you for your guidance and support. Team Nina and all the awesome readers—I appreciate you coming along for the ride and enjoying another birthday dare. I can’t wait to do it again. Last but always first, I’m grateful for the love of Life, Breath, and Inspiration—you know who you are.
About the Author
Nina Crespo lives in Florida where she indulges in her favorite passions—the beach, kickboxing, a good glass of wine with her own real-life hero, and dancing. Her lifelong addiction to romance began in her teens while on a “borrowing spree” in her older sister’s bedroom where she discovered her first romance novel. Curiosity about people and places, including what’s beyond the stars, fuels her writer’s imagination. This wellspring of inspiration allows Nina to create sensual contemporary stories and steamy paranormal tales, which she hopes will feed your own addiction for love, romance, and happily ever after.
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