by Marie Harte
“What?”
“I’m not talking about high school dating. Think about it. I was briefly in college then the USMC away from home. I got out, went home for a little, then moved out here. When would I bring a woman home?”
“But you must have had some long-term relationships, right?”
“What’s long term to you?” He cringed. “I sound like a bad bet, don’t I?”
“Not exactly.” She pondered his question. “To me, long term would be six months or more, I guess. I mean, I’ve introduced my parents to guys I’ve dated for longer than a few months.”
“Nope. Longest girlfriend I had was four months, back when I was stationed in Camp Pendleton.” He shrugged. “Long distance is rough when you get deployed. Like I said, I’m not one for cheating. The longest I ever had a girl, it ended when I found out she was seeing other guys when I was out of the country. I mean, I understood she was lonely. I just never understood why she couldn’t have broken it off with me first. To be honest, it didn’t bother me like it should have.” He frowned. “Can’t believe I told you that. I never think about her, honestly. But you asked, so…”
“Wow. She cheated on you?” The woman must have been insane.
“Can I pick ’em or what?” he teased and glanced at his phone. “Heck, we’re wasting daylight. Eat your sandwich, and we’ll get back on the road. Any idea what you want to shoot next?”
“Yes. I want the building that burned on Sunday. I want to see the aftermath.”
He nodded. “Can do.”
“Great. Now let’s enjoy the rest of our lunch, the birds, and the nice weather. But if you wanted to continue to apologize, in many different, colorful ways, for being such a jerk the other day, I’m all ears.”
“Huh?”
“I’d love for you to extrapolate about what a complete dickhead you were. And feel free to use four-letter words while doing so.” Heck, yeah, she’d milk his need to make things right with her.
He flushed. “Look, I was a total douche. A real jerk.”
“You know, you’re pretty good at this.” When he just sat there, she motioned for him to continue.
He rolled his eyes but gave her more of what she wanted to hear.
And she’d never had a better lunch.
Chapter Nine
Tex had been so grateful that Bree had forgiven him for being “a total dickhead with delusions of grandeur, barely good enough to suck her toes” that he agreed to whatever she asked for all day long.
That night, he left her at her house with a pleasant goodbye and waited in the truck for her to go inside. She’d made no more mention of them having sex or agreeing to a date night after the two weeks ended. But he had hope. Now he just had to stop being so honest with her and keep his big mouth shut.
Although…Tex’s speech about being afraid to mess up a good thing had worked perfectly. Yet the more Tex thought about what he’d said, the more he wondered if he’d ended up stumbling upon a deeper truth. He had been worried about messing up a good thing. And he did often flake on relationships once he realized they had no spark instead of trying to make the spark happen. It was like his parents’ perfect marriage impacted him in a negative way. Instead of having a great example of a relationship to strive for, he constantly feared he’d never live up to grand expectations and ended everything before it could really begin.
Damn. He should charge himself for his own therapy.
He sat, his mind loopy, and watched as Bree picked up the bouquet of flowers by her door before letting herself inside her house. He drove home, ignoring the ringing of his cell phone and the beeping of several texts.
Once in the door, he gave Bubbles some love and went outside to throw the ball for her. The dog had started to lose her reserve, finally, her tail wagging like mad when she saw him after an absence. She didn’t jump up on him, a polite gal. But she refused to leave his side when he was at home.
And that level of attention made him sad for her, that she’d been so lacking for God knew how long. His old dog had followed him around, sure, but then the pup had done her own thing. Hanging with his brothers or just chasing crickets outside in the yard.
Not Bubbles. She wanted nothing but to be with Tex, and he felt awful for leaving her alone whenever he went to work. At least Oscar and Gertie had been giving her love when he hadn’t been by to do so. He called Oscar.
“Yo. It’s Oscar. Speak to me.”
“Oscar, it’s Tex.”
“I know. And I still picked up! Imagine that.”
“Asshole. Any word on a home for Bubbles?”
“Not yet. We’ve had a few folks interested, but they didn’t check out. Bubbles needs caring and outdoor space. Stimulation with lots of love.”
“She follows me all over the place when I get home. It’s not fair to her to be alone all day. I know you’ve been swinging by to let her out and play with her. Hey, if you want, you can stay at my place with Klingon when I’m not home. I just… I don’t want her to be alone so much.”
The dog kept looking at him, her dark-brown eyes huge with love and need. Tex felt suffocated, the same way he had with so many of his exes.
He wasn’t doing right by the dog, and both Bubbles and he would be torn up when she left.
Oh my God. I’m a basket case. “I’m going to try to see if I can find her a place.”
“Whatever you can do, man. We’re also going to put her on the show next week. You know, Avery’s show for Searching the Needle Weekly with the pet adoption segment. It would be great if you could show up too.”
“Maybe.” Yet as much as Tex wanted Bubbles to find a good family, the idea of her leaving hurt. Bad. “Fuck. I don’t know.”
“Tex?”
He felt jumpy. “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later about it, okay?”
“Sure, man. And seriously, thanks so much. She’s already worlds better living with you. You have no idea how withdrawn she was with Scott.” Oscar disconnected.
Great. More guilt.
Bubbles stared up at him and smiled, panting, her ears perked as she watched him.
Tex stared back. “You’re emotionally needy and physically challenging.” He stared at the dog hair on the floor. “You’re shedding, Bubbles.”
She didn’t blink.
“Where’s your ball?”
She barked. Ball—her new magic word.
After twenty more minutes spent playing fetch, she caved to taking some water while he set some ground beef in a pan to go with the leftover veggies he’d made the other night. Tex could cook okay, but he wasn’t a genius in the kitchen.
His phone vibrated again, and he checked, seeing a message from Bree. Several messages, actually.
His heart raced. He dialed her, his voice calm while the rest of him buzzed with excitement. “You called?”
“You got me flowers?”
He grinned. “You like them?” Considering his luck with Bree, he worried he’d made a mistake. “Oh, man, you’re not allergic or anything, are you?”
“No. They’re great.” She paused. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I did. I was a horse’s ass. A huge jackhole. Remember?”
“‘Jackhole’ is a new one. I like it.” She laughed. “Thanks, Tex. The flowers are really sweet.”
They hadn’t been cheap, but Bree was worth it. “I said it, and I’ll say it again. I’m really sorry about before.”
“Stop it already.”
He pumped his fist. Yes.
“Look, we’ll let bygones be bygones. Why don’t you come over for dinner tomorrow? And bring Bubbles. How does steak sound?”
“Great. I can pick up a few before—”
“No. This is on me. We’re good, Tex. Relax.”
“Just good, not great?”
She snorted. “One step a
t a time, cowboy. Keep being a stand-up guy—don’t hurt yourself, now—and we just might get to that date when we’re done.”
“Hot damn. Okay. And yeah, dinner tomorrow sounds great. I’ll pick you up in the morning at nine for work, okay?”
“Yes, but feel free to wear casual clothes. Unless you’re partial to your uniform. I want to do some work in my office, and I’d like your input on some of my shots.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Some explanation about some of the shots I took would help. And I’m curious as to what photos pop out at you.”
“Okay. Sure. See you at nine.”
But the next morning, Bree didn’t answer her door. He knocked. No answer. He pulled out his phone, thinking maybe she’d slept in. He called but she didn’t pick up. Odd. He stood there and thought he heard something. He knocked again. “Bree?”
The door flew open, and Bree yanked him inside. He stared at her in shock.
She wore nothing but a drenched, knee-length, terrycloth robe that clung to her.
“Bree?” came out as a croak.
“Help me!”
He followed her to her bathroom, the floor covered in sopping towels. The shower sprayed into a full tub, which was overflowing.
“I have a slow drain, and I can’t get the water to turn off.” She flipped a hank of wet hair back.
He couldn’t help grinning. “You look like a drowned rat.” A sexy rat. Her robe really showed off her assets, plastered to her as it was. His mouth watered as he raked his gaze over her breasts and thighs.
“Help. Me.” She planted her hands on her hips.
He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Where’s your water shutoff valve?”
“How the hell would I know?”
He sighed. “Where’s your water heater? Any valve-looking things?”
“That’s all in the garage.” She muttered, “I think.”
“Show me.” He followed her into the garage, spotted a valve he hoped would turn off the water to the house, and shut it off. “Tools?”
She pointed to a toolbox that looked as if it had never been opened. “My dad gave it to me years ago.”
“Right. Go check to make sure the water’s off in the bathroom, would you?”
“Okay.” She left.
He dragged the toolbox inside and paused in the hallway to remove his shoes and socks and roll up his jeans.
“Water’s off,” she called from the bathroom.
He entered, walking over the wet floor. The tub continued to drain, the water now below the edge and sinking. He rolled his pants higher and waited until it had gone halfway down before stepping in the tub.
Bree hovered nearby. “Can I help?”
“I’ll let you know.” He’d propped the toolbox on the counter and leaned over to grab a flathead screwdriver. He popped off the cover plate to the shower handle and pulled the knob assembly off the valve stem. Then he fetched a pair of pliers from the toolkit and used them to turn the stem counterclockwise. It wouldn’t go any more.
“Okay, this should do it. The water is off, but you might need to replace the cartridge inside. Only reason I know this is that my parents had this exact same problem last year, and I watched my dad fix it. One heck of a Christmas, I can tell you, four of us sharing one shower.”
She smiled. “Thanks, Tex.”
Her robe gaped, and try as he might, he couldn’t help looking. She had the nicest breasts…
He glanced up to see her following his stare. “Oh, uh, sorry.”
She looked at him with a frown.
He blurted, “I can’t help it. You’re all wet, and they’re right there. It’s like they’re begging me to get closer.” Stop. Talking. He turned mute, but he couldn’t blink, his entire being focused on her wet, stacked chest.
“You like my rack, eh?” Bree was smiling at him. “Are wet T-shirts your thing?”
He found it safe to smile back.
Mistake.
She turned, grabbed a bowl that for some reason sat in the bathroom filled with water, and tossed it at him, hitting him right in the face and chest. And it was cold.
“Damn it.” He staggered back, slipped, and nearly fell on his ass in the tub, then said to hell with it and plopped down in the inches of water remaining.
“Oh, shoot. Are you okay?” She leaned forward with concern, and he yanked her down on top of him.
“There you go. Now we’re both miserable.” And he had an armful of Brianna Gilchrist.
Which was not at all a good idea.
He no longer felt the cold. Her robe gaped, leaving a wealth of her slick, wet skin visible and so close… He had his hands on her thighs, holding her over him, her legs spread as she straddled his hips in her unusually wide tub.
“It’s like a spa tub,” he said, the inane words not connected to the spike of blood pressure rushing below the belt. His jeans felt way too tight, her legs way too smooth.
“I like to take baths a lot.”
“Yeah?” He had trouble breathing, his focus on her proximity.
“Your T-shirt is all wet. Sit back and lift up your arms.” Oh, shit. Her voice had gone husky.
He sat up for balance, careful not to move her off him, and lifted his arms.
She drew his shirt off and tossed the sopping fabric. Then she looked at him. Really looked.
The air thickened. His body felt sensitive all over, and when she stroked his chest, flicking her fingers over his nipples, his desire shot into hyperdrive.
Fuck. Me.
Bree stared, her mouth open in a sexy O.
He felt so hard, he hurt. “You’re all wet.”
The pause between them gave more meaning to what he said.
She bit her lower lip, and Tex felt like he’d entered another dimension, one where his porn fantasies meshed with real life.
“I am wet. All over. Want to see?”
What the…? “Jesus. Are you kidding?”
“I want you. Do you want me?”
He dragged her down and kissed her, which was all the answer she needed.
***
Bree couldn’t handle the pressure any longer. She’d been lusting after this man for months. And the past week and a half had been frustrating, because even when she wasn’t sure she liked Tex, she wanted him.
She sure the hell hadn’t planned to wake up late then deal with a possessed shower, but to get Tex McGovern wet and half-naked? Priceless.
She ground over that large bulge between his legs, sighing when he parted her robe and put his hot, callused hands over her breasts. He cupped her and took over the kiss, grinding up against her while he fondled her into a fevered arousal. And his hands had nothing on his mouth.
His tongue filled her, stroking and persuading, his moans more than setting her off. She wanted him inside her. Now. “Tex, I—” she started as he ran his mouth across her cheek and down her throat.
The wet robe slid down her arms and stopped at her elbows, the fabric parted so that she was all but naked on top of Tex.
“I knew you’d be hot as fuck, but this is insane,” he muttered and latched onto her breast.
She gasped as he teethed her, sucking the nub with a roughness that turned her into a mindless, needy creature. She was drenching his jeans, and it wasn’t just water messing the fabric.
He turned to her other breast, and she could only hold on to him, running her hands through his hair, keeping him where it felt best.
“Need to be in you,” he said as he drew back to stare at her. He looked her over, lingering on the junction of her thighs resting over his groin. “You got any condoms?”
“In the bedroom, I think.” Honestly, she found it difficult to do more than feel. She used birth control and always practiced safe sex, so she was safe. But was Tex?
Are we doing this? Oh my God. We’re really doing this! “To the left.” Anticipation made her light-headed, that or the fact she slumped over Tex’s shoulder, staring at his tight ass as he hightailed it to her bedroom.
He set her down gently and removed the robe from her. “First time’s gonna be fast,” he said, staring at her. He unzipped and pushed down his clothes, then kicked them off. “Grab a condom.”
She hurried to her nightstand and came back with one. “Here.” She handed it to him.
“Not yet.” He stalked her, and she backed away before she realized it. The back of her knees hit the bed. “Tex?”
“You say no and I’m gone.” Tense, he waited.
“Yes. I’m saying yes.”
“Then get on the bed and spread your legs. You clean?”
She blushed. “Yes.”
“Me too.” Then he was all business, his body tight, his muscles huge, and his cock…magnificent. She wanted so badly to take his picture, right then and there.
“Bree?”
“Tex?”
“Darlin’, my eyes are up here.” He sounded amused.
She blinked and met his gaze. “Sorry, it’s just so big.”
“I know.” He chuckled. “Now if you want to see how good it feels inside you, lie back on the bed and spread those gorgeous legs. I can’t wait anymore.”
“Me neither.” She hurried, not feeling self-conscious as much as dying to feel satisfied and praying he wasn’t a dud in bed. Still, even if he was, he was dynamite to look at—Carrie had been correct in that.
But instead of covering her and thrusting deep, Tex blanketed her with his body, leaning up on his elbows so as not to crush her, and kissed her. He kept on kissing her while that thick cock brushed against her belly, so incredibly thick.
She moaned, needing him, her body on fire to have him.