Unbridled (Unlikely Lovers)

by Brooks, Cheryl

  Miranda’s eyes widened. “Whatever gave you that idea? He didn’t say anything of the kind.”

  “It was his body language more than anything he actually said.”

  If Lola had noticed it, Miranda couldn’t very well deny the possibility any longer—the way he acted at the hospital, then driving her home and helping her change clothes. If only she had something more to go on than body language… “I still don’t know…he’s so much younger than I am.”

  “And that makes it impossible? No, trust me on this one, Miranda. He likes you, and not just as a friend.”

  If only that were true. Miranda still couldn’t allow herself to believe it—not yet, anyway. Perhaps later, when her brain wasn’t quite so fuzzy. “I’m still not sure about that. If he was interested in me, why would he let me introduce him to my friends?”

  “Did he know that was why you invited him to the party?”

  “Well, no, but he figured it out right away. If he’d wanted me, he should have said something then.”

  “Maybe he thought you didn’t like him if you were trying to fix him up with someone else,” Lola suggested. “Did you ever think of that?”

  “No, I didn’t.” She paused, frowning. “No, wait. I remember now. He thought I was married.”

  “Of course he did,” Lola snapped. “And I know why. You should’ve taken that ring off years ago. Kris is gone. You need to admit that and move on.”

  “I know,” Miranda groaned. “It just seemed so wrong to take it off at first. Then later, I used it as a deterrent. I never told Travis I was a widow because I didn’t think it mattered. I never dreamed…”

  “Well, maybe it’s time you did.” Her tone was softer now. “You’ve dedicated your whole life to raising Levi, and you’ve done a terrific job. You deserve to dream a little.”

  “Maybe. But you of all people should know how controlling men can be—and how unreliable. I’ve always thought Travis was a nice, handsome fellow, but—”

  “Has he seemed controlling?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “Or unreliable?”

  “No. He said he’d dig the ditch on Friday afternoon, and that’s exactly what he did.”

  “Sounds like a winner to me,” she declared. “Is he still there?”

  Miranda couldn’t help chuckling. Lola’s husbands had all been losers—the first guy left her for another woman, the second was a controlling asshole, and the third was a pathological liar. The fourth wasn’t proving to be any better than the rest, which made Lola’s opinion essentially worthless. In this particular instance, however, Miranda tended to agree. “He took the backhoe home and said he’d be back in a little while.”

  “He’ll be back,” she promised. “He’s not going anywhere. Now, do me a favor and get well quick so I don’t have to work with that idiot Sheila any more than I have to already.”

  “I’ll be back in two weeks,” Miranda protested. “How bad could it be?”

  “She offered to work extra while you’re laid up, and I was scheduled to work four nights with you. Now three of them are with her.”

  “Don’t worry. I heal quickly.” Most of the time.

  “Of course spending two weeks off with Travis might make you want to stay on sick leave forever.”

  Miranda ignored the hint of suggestion in her tone. “I doubt it. It’ll probably be very boring.”

  Lola began laughing hysterically and was still laughing when she hung up. Miranda’s friends were always seeing things she couldn’t. Nonetheless, Travis had said he’d be back, and he hadn’t lied to her yet.

  Yeah, right. I’ll believe it when I see it.

  Chapter 16

  Travis returned an hour or so later with several bags of groceries and lunch from Dairy Queen. “I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you a cheeseburger, fries and—” Reaching into the bag, he pulled it out with a flourish. “A Dilly Bar.”

  Miranda had been sitting there wondering if he would ever come back at all, and he’d brought her a Dilly Bar.

  The man is a prince. If she hadn’t been giggling so hard, she would have cried. Of course, giggling made her ribs hurt so much, she still felt like crying.

  “Thanks, Travis. That was awfully sweet of you.”

  He dropped the ice cream bar back in the bag and put it in the freezer. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like. I thought about getting you a Blizzard, but I’ve never known anyone who didn’t like Dilly Bars.”

  “I know someone who doesn’t even like chocolate. She’d never touch a Dilly Bar.” Sheila had a number of peculiar traits. The chocolate-hating thing was simply one of the more obvious. “I think she needs a CAT scan, myself.”

  He nodded toward her teacup. “I see you’ve been up. How’d it go?”

  “Not too bad,” she replied. “Walking seemed to help the stiffness in my knee.”

  “Maybe we can take a stroll after dinner.” He set her lunch in front of her and sat down to eat his own. “I really enjoyed our little walk from the truck.” He followed that statement with a quick wink and a significant flick of his brow.

  The last time they’d been walking together, he’d hugged her and she’d kissed him on the neck. Not only had he come back afterward, he’d brought her ice cream. Maybe Lola was right after all. Maybe everyone was right.

  Unwrapping her hamburger, she took a bite, only then realizing how hungry she was. “You weren’t gone long. You must live pretty close.”

  “About ten minutes from here,” he said. “I spent more time at Dairy Queen than I did driving back and forth.” He paused, taking a sip from his cup. “It didn’t take long to unhitch the trailer and throw some clean clothes in a bag.”

  Clean clothes? Why on earth would he need clean clothes? Then she remembered he was probably still wearing Levi’s underwear. Even so, he could have brought those back anytime. There was no need for him to return them right away.

  “You usually feed the horses at about four, don’t you?”

  She nodded, thanking God for a neutral topic. “Sometimes it’s later, but in winter, they’re usually waiting at the gate by three.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem. I’m home by five during the week. I can stop by my place on the way if I need to pick up anything.” He studied her as though trying to gauge her reaction. “You don’t mind if I stay here, do you? It would be a lot easier—especially since I have to check on you every two hours tonight.”

  Of course he did. Why do I keep forgetting that?

  Concussion, Miranda… She shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner. “Sure, whatever works best for you.”

  You can stay forever if you’ll kiss me once in a while and bring me Dilly Bars.

  Swallowing hard, she sat up a little straighter as she suddenly remembered that he had kissed her. The horses had been talking to her, and she’d thought he was Damar until he kissed her—in a very un-horsey way. But that hadn’t been the first time, had it? She couldn’t actually remember another kiss, but it had seemed so familiar at the time…

  She glanced over to find Travis staring at her, a French fry poised before his parted lips.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not having a seizure. I just remembered something—at least, I think I did.” She rubbed her head and blinked. “It’s hard to tell.”

  “It must have been pretty important,” he said. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

  “Not exactly. Tell me something, though. When you came up to the barn, what was I doing?”

  He bit back a smile. “You were putting feed in the buckets and talking to me like I was one of the horses.”

  “Anything else?”

  Chuckling, he picked up another French fry, dipping it in catsup. “You said it was pretty silly for a horse to think you needed a CAT scan.”

  Her withering glance didn’t stop him from smiling. “Did you do anything to convince me you weren’t a horse?”

  His smile broadened. “You mean you don’t remember?
”

  “I think I do, but I’m not completely sure.”

  “I kissed you. It seemed a better way of bringing you to your senses than slapping you. I mean, you’d already been hit on the head once.”

  “That’s…logical.” Apparently, it took having hallucinations to get a kiss from him. She could fake them, of course, but that kind of behavior was liable to get her committed if she kept it up. Better not risk it.

  His brow rose. “What’s the matter? Am I starting to look like a horse again?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Not unless you’ve suddenly grown a tail.”

  Popping up from his chair, he twisted around to check the seat of his pants. “I have got a tail! You’d better kiss me again, quick.”

  “Now, Travis,” she chided. “I’m the one who’s been seeing things, not you.”

  Bracing a hand on the table, he leaned down until his wicked smile was a breath away from her lips. “Maybe it’s contagious. You’d better kiss me again, just to be sure.”

  The twinkle in his eyes melted her resistance, luring her ever closer. Sighing, she yielded to the desire she’d held in check for so long. If he wanted a kiss, she would make it one he would never forget.

  Reaching up, she slid her fingers through his hair and pulled him down. After the first tentative touch, her tongue slipped past his lips as she devoured him. The flavor may have been burger and fries, but the feeling was pure Dilly Bar—melting, chocolaty, delicious Dilly Bar. As she deepened the kiss, a surge of passion flooded her body before sinking down to pool in her core. A blast of searing heat followed, growing hotter as it neared the combustion point.

  Suddenly their roles reversed and he became the aggressor, his kiss driving her head firmly against the hand he’d tangled in her hair. His intoxicating lips stole her reason, his tongue probing gently before penetrating her mouth to caress her from within.

  Moments later, he broke off the kiss and glanced over his shoulder. “It’s still there. Better kiss me again. Kissing you makes all the bad things disappear.”

  And all the pain vanish…

  Cupping his cheeks between her palms, she feathered kisses over his softly parted lips. She’d wanted to do that for so long…

  A groan escaped him as though wrenched from the depths of his soul. “Oh, Miranda,” he whispered. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

  He had no idea what he did to her, either. She thrust in deeper, her tongue dueling with his until she couldn’t stand it anymore and sucked it, hard.

  Moments later, he drew back, his breath coming in short panting gasps. “I don’t think I can take much more. I’m—oh, help me, please.” His hand gripped his belt buckle, the inference quite plain.

  She stared at the bulge in his groin, filled with a hunger that had her licking her lips in anticipation. Their eyes met for an instant as she nodded in reply. With a quick flip of the buckle and the grate of the zipper, his jeans fell to his knees, leaving his hard, drooling penis right there before her lips. A growl rose from her chest as she sucked him in, her own body awash with a need so powerful it shocked her far more than the sheer audacity of what he’d suggested—perhaps even expected—her to do. Without hesitation, she did the same things to his cock that she had done to his mouth—licking, sucking, nipping…

  A brief upward glance triggered an overwhelming sense of déjà vu—like she’d done this before, or at the very least dreamed about it. Blinking back the vision, she sucked harder, coating her tongue with the slippery fluid that spilled out of him. She was drowning in his essence when his breath caught in his throat. He pulled away with an anguished cry, but his climax never came.

  “I…can’t.” His eyes were dazed with some emotion she couldn’t read. “Use your hands, anything. I never could—”

  Miranda had no idea what it was he couldn’t do, but putting her hands on him seemed like excellent advice. Lacing her fingers together, she slid his dick through the tight tunnel between her palms. Three strokes later, he doubled over, catching himself with a hand slammed against the table.

  His semen hit her shoulder like a blast from a high-powered squirt gun. She’d heard stories about the occasional guy who could hit the ceiling but had never really believed it was possible until now. Kris had never even come close to producing that much force. Travis, on the other hand, could’ve fired a shot out of a second-story window from the basement.

  Okay, so that’s a slight exaggeration, but still…

  She leaned back in her chair searching for a topic to lighten the mood. “It’s a good thing you put the Dilly Bars in the freezer.”

  He gasped with breathless laughter, still holding onto the table for support. “I think I need one now. I’m about to burn up.”

  “My point, exactly. The heat you’re putting out would melt a lot more than ice cream.” She hesitated, unsure whether to delve further into the subject, but she simply had to ask. “So, when did you decide I was someone you had the hots for? I had no idea.”

  He gave her a puzzled look as he pulled up his jeans. “I would’ve asked you out last spring if I hadn’t thought you were married. I’ve been fighting the attraction ever since I spotted your ring.”

  That explained a few things, but not why he thought he could kiss her and then expect her to go straight to cocksucking. Whether she’d been willing to do it or not, looking back on it now, it seemed a bit presumptuous. There were plenty of women who would’ve flat-out refused, no matter how much a man begged. Miranda wasn’t one of them, and he had phrased it as a request. Travis wasn’t the type to insist or use force, so she could have said no. The funny thing was, he hadn’t seemed to expect a refusal.

  Then there was that feeling of déjà vu. If she’d done it before, his behavior wouldn’t have been remarkable in any way. She wished she could ask him, but it would’ve sounded too ridiculous, something along the lines of Hey, Travis—I forget—have I sucked your dick before? It seems sort of familiar…

  She was about to chalk the entire episode up to her rattled brains when she noticed Travis peering at her chest. “Did I, um, hit you?”

  “With what?”

  “With this.” Chuckling, he pointed at her shoulder. “Sorry about that.” Snatching a napkin from the table, he wiped his semen off her gown. “Do you want to put on a clean one?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not worth the trouble.” Unsure of the proper etiquette for the situation, she did her best to seem nonchalant, as though she always had white stains on her nightie. She wondered what would be appropriate to say next. Thanks for letting me suck your dick, Travis. I’ll just finish my lunch now…

  Which seemed like a good idea, actually. Picking up the remains of her hamburger, she took a bite.

  Travis winced. “It’s cold, isn’t it?”

  “Kinda,” she admitted.

  “Guess I should’ve let you finish it first.”

  She giggled. “Oh, I don’t know… It’s probably best to do that sort of thing on an empty stomach, don’t you think? I mean, what if I’d gagged and thrown up?”

  He stood there for a moment, pensively chewing his lip. “I never thought of that. I’ve been fighting temptation for so long, I guess I lost my head. At least I didn’t nail you on the floor.”

  “I probably would’ve raised a ruckus if you had. Lying on my back hurts like the devil. Those x-ray tables almost killed me.”

  He frowned with concern. “How are you going to sleep?”

  “I never sleep on my back, anyway. I should be able to lie on my left side. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I can’t help worrying about you, Miranda. When I saw you fall this morning, I…I thought I’d lost you, just when things were starting to look up.”

  “Look up? I’m still in the dark here. All this time I’ve been listening to your sob stories and trying to fix you up with my friends, you never once hinted that you were interested in me. This whole thing has come at me out of the blue, so forgive me if I seem
hesitant.”

  “I understand that, but why didn’t you ever give me any hints? I didn’t even know you were single. Why didn’t you ask me for a date?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I guess I assumed you knew I was a widow—that maybe Nigel had told you—and you’d already ruled me out. I didn’t want to make a blunder that would ruin our friendship. I should have stopped wearing my ring years ago, but there were valid reasons for it—at least, there were in the beginning.” She knew it sounded lame, but then, most misunderstandings do once they’re explained. “I thought about telling you or taking off my ring, but if I did and you still weren’t interested…well, I didn’t want to have to face that.”

  “I don’t know why you’d think I wasn’t interested. You’re a beautiful, kind, intelligent woman. I’m surprised no one has tried to snap you up whether they thought you were available or not. Of course, most decent guys won’t look past the ring.”

  “But you did.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not proud of it.” Grumbling, he ran a hand through his hair. “If my father had any idea I’d been lusting after a married woman, he’d pound me to a pulp. At least I waited until I knew you were single to make a move.”

  “True.” And it had been one hell of a move. She blew out a breath. There was still one more obstacle to overcome. “Another reason I didn’t say anything to you was because I’m so much older than you are.”

  “Honestly, the age difference doesn’t matter to me.” His lips curled into a grin. “Besides, you look incredibly hot—for an old girl.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Gee, thanks. In my present state that makes me feel so much better.”

  Travis had to bite back a laugh. “I thought it might. Can you think of anything else that might make you feel better?”

  She shrugged. “I’ll take a shower later. That usually helps.”

  The image of her wet and naked sent blood rushing back to his groin. I will not shove my dick in her face again. At least, not for a while. “Don’t suppose I could wash your back, could I?”