As it turned out, that was true.
Sex with Austin Bradshaw was way better than the movies.
He nibbled the side of her neck right below her ear. “Am I squashing you, honey? This isn’t exactly a soft mattress at the Ritz.”
She tried to catch her breath, but the words still came out on a moan. “No. I’m good. I think there may be a small rock under my right hip bone, but my leg went numb a few minutes ago, so no worries.”
“You should have said something.” He rolled to his back, taking Brooke with him.
“Oh, gosh.” Now she was on top. Exposed. Bare-assed naked. In the daytime. Well, the sun was trying to go down, but there was still plenty of light if anyone was looking.
This was far different from dimly lit motel sex in the middle of the night. Austin noticed, too. He suckled each of her breasts in turn, murmuring his pleasure and sending liquid heat from there to every other bit of her. “I love your body, Brooke. Do you know how beautiful you are?”
How was a woman supposed to answer that? Brooke wasn’t a slug. She worked out and she was healthy. But beautiful? She had always wanted to be taller and more confident and to have a less pointy chin. “I’m glad you think so,” she said diplomatically.
He bit a sensitive nipple, making her yelp. “If we’re going to have sex with each other on a regular basis, you have to promise me you’ll love your body.” He ran his hands over her bottom, pulling her a little closer against him, filling her incrementally more.
“Yes, sir,” she said, kissing his nose and his eyebrows and his beautiful, gold-tipped eyelashes.
He thrust upward. “We’ll be exclusive,” he groaned. “No one else while we’re together. Understood?”
Was he insane? What woman was going to fool around when she had Austin Bradshaw in her bed? Nevertheless, Brooke nodded. A plan began forming in her head, but it was hard to focus on anything sensible when her body was like hot wax.
He gripped her hips tightly and moved her against him. Need flared, hot and urgent and breathless. She was burning up from the inside out, even though parts of her were definitely cold.
It was dusk now. The stars were coming out one by one. Or maybe she was the starry-eyed dreamer. How had she gotten so lucky? Like a rare comet, men of Austin’s caliber came around once in a long time. She wouldn’t be greedy. She wouldn’t ask for more than he had to give.
He kissed her roughly, his lips warm, his breath feathering the hair at her temple where it fell across his face. “I don’t want to send you home tonight, Brooke. But I’m staying in one of Gus’s bunkhouses. We’re gonna have to figure something out.”
She nodded again, the speech centers in her brain misfiring. “Working on it,” she stuttered. His fingers slid deep into her hair, tipping her head so he could nip her earlobe. He sucked on the tiny gold stud. “You make me want things, honey.”
“Like what?” She was breathless, yearning.
“If I tell you, you might run away.”
“I won’t, I swear.”
She ran her hands over his arms. Despite the plummeting temperatures, his skin was hot. His muscles were impressive for a man who called himself an architect. Clearly he did more than wield a pencil all day.
He was barely moving now, his body rigid. His chest heaved. “Damn it.”
“What’s wrong?” She probably should be alarmed, but she was concentrating too hard on the finish line to care.
“I only have one condom,” he growled.
The pique in his voice struck her as funny. “We’ll improvise later,” she said, laughing softly. “Make me come, Cowboy. Send me over the edge.”
Austin Bradshaw was clearly a man who liked a challenge. With a groan, he rolled her beneath him again and pistoned his hips, driving into her over and over until they both went up in a flare of heat. Brooke unraveled first, clutching Austin because he was the only steady point in a spiraling universe.
She was barely aware of his muffled shout and the way he shuddered against her as he came.
It took a long time for reality to intrude. Gradually, her breathing settled into something approaching normal. Her heartbeat dropped below a hundred.
Austin grunted and shifted to one side, dragging her against him. “Damn, girl, you’re freezing.”
“I don’t care,” she mumbled, burrowing into his rib cage. The man smelled amazing.
He yawned and lifted his arm to stare at his watch. “It’s late.”
“Yeah.” Apparently, neither of them cared, because they didn’t move for the longest time.
Eons later, he stirred. “Is there any food left?”
The man must be starving after burning all those calories. “Probably.” Her heart began to race. She had reached a pivotal moment in her life, and she didn’t want to screw it up. “Austin?”
“Hmm?”
“I want to ask you a question, but you have to promise me you’ll think about it, and you won’t freak out.”
He chuckled. “I’m feeling pretty mellow at the moment. Ask me anything, honey.”
“Will you marry me?”
* * *
Austin rolled to his feet and reached for his clothes, panic slugging in his chest. “We need to get in the truck. I think you have hypothermia.”
“I’m serious,” Brooke said, her voice steady and determined.
“Get dressed before you freeze to death.” That was the thing about October. It could be really warm on a nice afternoon, but when the sun went down and the skies were clear, it got cold fast.
They found all their clothing. Between them, they repacked the picnic basket. “We can snack in the truck,” Brooke said.
He folded up the blanket and tossed it in the back. They climbed into the cab. The picnic hamper was between them. Austin found a lone chicken leg and munched on it. He wasn’t about to say a word at the moment. Not after that bomb she had just tossed at him.
Brooke finished off a bag of potato chips and stared out through the windshield into the inky darkness. “I was serious,” she said at last.
“Why?” He could barely force the word from his throat. He’d done the marriage thing, and it had nearly destroyed him.
She reached up and turned on the small reading light that cast a dim glow over the intimate space. With the doors closed and the body heat from two adults, they were plenty warm now.
Brooke looked tired. She had smudges of exhaustion beneath her eyes and her cheekbones were hollow, as if she had lost some weight. “I’m not in love with you, Austin, and I don’t plan to be. You can rest easy on that score. But I could use your help. You told me yourself that you’ve been bouncing from town to town since your wife died. Royal is as good a place as any to put down temporary roots.”
“And why would I do that?”
“To help me get my inheritance. You met my mother today. You saw what she’s like. You actually made her back down, Austin. You were the alpha dog, and she respected that. Marry me. Not for long. Six months. Maybe twelve. By then I’ll have my inheritance and I can have my art studio up and running.”
“What’s in it for me?” It was a rude, terrible question, but he was trying to shock her into seeing how outrageous her plan was.
She smiled at him, a surprisingly sweet, guileless smile given the topic of conversation. “Regular sex. Home-cooked meals. Companionship if you want it. But most of all, the knowledge that you’re doing the right thing. You’re making a difference in my life.”
Well, hell. When she put it like that... He cleared his throat, alarmed by how appealing it was to contemplate having Brooke Goodman in his bed every night. “Your parents will go ballistic,” he pointed out. “I’m nobody on their radar. To be honest, I’ll be seen as a fortune hunter by the whole town. That’s not a role I’m keen to play.”
She nodded slowly. “I understand tha
t. But my parents have no say in the matter when it comes to marriage. I’m well past the age of consent, and my grandmother’s will is very clear. The money is mine if I’m married. As for the other...if it would make you feel better, we could sign a prenup, and I could spread the word that you insisted on having one because you’re such a Boy Scout.”
“You seem to have thought of everything.”
“Not really. The idea only began percolating this morning when I saw how you handled my mother.”
“I can’t make her hand over your inheritance.”
“Exactly. That’s why I began thinking about a temporary marriage.” She reached out and stroked his arm. “You’re a good man, Austin Bradshaw. Life has knocked you down once. I won’t give you any grief, I swear. We’ll make our agreement, and when the time is up, you’ll walk away free and clear, no regrets. You have my word.”
He looked down at her slender fingers pressed against the fabric of his shirt. Her touch burned, as if it were on his bare skin. Already, he could see the flaw in this plan. Brooke Goodman tempted him more than any woman had since Jenny died. He didn’t want to need anybody else. He didn’t want to crave that human connection. Being alone had been comfortable and safe.
“I’ll think about it,” he said gruffly. “But don’t get your hopes up.”
Seven
Austin avoided Brooke for an entire week. He was ashamed to admit it, even to himself, but it was true.
He saw her, of course. Across the courtyard garden. They were both working at the same outdoor location. But he kept his distance. Because he didn’t know how the hell he was going to respond to her proposal.
With each hour and day that passed, he wanted more and more to say yes to her wild and crazy idea. That was insane enough to stop him in his tracks.
Fortunately, Gus’s job kept Austin legitimately busy. Getting the stage ready in time for the upcoming auction required long hours and plenty of focus. Thanks to having an inside track, the plans were approved by the zoning board immediately. Austin had ordered the materials on the spot, and they had already begun arriving pallet by pallet. Soon, the first saws would start humming.
Gus had hired a foreman, but Austin was the boss. He liked the hands-on aspect of the project, and he was a bit of a control freak. It was his design, his baby. In the end, any problems would fall to him. He intended to make sure everything was perfect.
It amused him to realize that a number of the club members had taken to dropping by during the week to gauge the progress on the new stage addition. At first he thought it was to check up on him. Later, he realized that most of them, the men in particular, were simply interested.
One of the younger guys, Ryan Bateman, turned out to be very friendly. He even wrangled Austin into joining a pickup basketball game one evening. After that, when Austin was still avoiding Brooke later in the week, Ryan issued a lunch invitation.
“Let’s eat in the club dining room,” the other man said. “My treat. I think I know someone who could throw some work your way. You’ll like him a lot.”
“I don’t know that I’m planning on staying in Royal,” Austin said, wondering if Brooke had put Ryan up to this. Ryan was a club member, of course. Austin was not.
“At least come for the free food,” Ryan chuckled. “What could it hurt?”
Austin glanced down ruefully at his dusty work clothes. “I’m not exactly dressed for the club dining room.”
Ryan shook his head. “No worries. The old-school days with the rigid dress code are long gone—well, at least during lunchtime.”
The other man looked pretty scruffy as well, to be honest. He had a day’s growth of beard, and his green eyes twinkled beneath shaggy brown hair. His broad shoulders stretched the seams of a plain navy Henley shirt.
“A decent meal sounds good,” Austin said, giving in gracefully. “Let me wash up, and I’ll meet you inside.”
At the end of the building where he was working, there was an outdoor faucet. He shoved his shirtsleeves to his elbows and threw water on his face and arms. Using a spare T-shirt to dry off, he tucked his white button-up shirt into his ancient khakis and scraped his hands through his hair. Rich people didn’t spook him. They had their problems, same as anybody else.
Up until now, he’d been swinging by the convenience mart at the end of town each morning and picking up a prepackaged sandwich for his lunch so he didn’t waste time on a midday meal. But he had to admit, he was looking forward to something more substantial.
Ryan was leaning against a wall in the hallway waiting on him. The two men made their way into the dining room where a uniformed maître d’ seated them at a table overlooking the gardens. Except for a variety of chrysanthemums and a few evergreens, the area was dull and brown. Presumably the landscapers would bring in some temporary plants and foliage for the auction, ones that could be whisked away for the winter.
Just as they got settled, another club member joined them. If Ryan and Austin were on the scruffy side, this guy was a young George Clooney who had just stepped off his yacht. He was easily six foot three. Black hair. Blue eyes. A ripple of feminine interest circled the dining room.
Ryan grinned broadly. “Austin, meet Matt Galloway. Matt, Austin Bradshaw. Austin is new in town. He’s the architect Gus hired to do the stage addition out in the gardens.”
Matt shook Austin’s hand. “It’s a pleasure. I like what you’ve done so far out there.”
“Thank you,” Austin said. “Are you a cattle rancher like Ryan here?”
Ryan snorted. “Not hardly. Galloway is an oil tycoon. And did I mention that he’s newly engaged?”
Despite his sophisticated appearance, Matt’s sheepish smile reflected genuine happiness. “I am, indeed.”
Austin smiled. “Congratulations.”
Ryan summoned the waiter. “A bottle of champagne, please. We need to toast the groom-to-be.”
While they placed their lunch orders and waited for the drinks to be poured, Ryan pushed his agenda. “Austin, Matt’s going to be needing a house. Tell him, Matt.”
Matt nodded. “My fiancée and I do want to build. We have ideas, but neither of us has the skill set to get our vision on paper, so to speak. I was hoping you might be the person to help us.”
Austin frowned slightly. “The stage addition is hardly a true showcase of my work. You do realize that, right?”
“Of course.” Matt grinned. “But Ryan here is a pretty damn good judge of character, and if he likes you, that’s good enough for me. Rachel and I want someone we feel comfortable with, someone who can guide us without taking over.”
“I don’t even know if I’m planning on sticking around,” Austin admitted, feeling the sand eroding beneath his feet.
Ryan jumped in. “Where’s home?”
“Dallas originally. And I’ve spent time in Joplin.”
Matt paused as the waiter delivered their appetizers. “Are you footloose and fancy-free like Bateman here?”
Austin hesitated. He never knew quite how to answer this question. “I was married,” he said simply. “But my wife died some years back. Cancer. I’ve moved around since then.”
Ryan sobered. “Sorry, man. I didn’t know.”
Matt stared at him. “I’m sorry, too. But I have to tell you, Royal is a great place to live. Maybe it’s time to put down a few roots.”
“It’s possible.” Austin flashed back suddenly to a vision of Brooke’s naked body and her unexpected proposal.
“Take your time,” Matt said. “I’m not in a huge rush. When the auction is done, maybe you could have dinner with Rachel and me and we could kick around a few ideas. No pressure.”
Austin nodded slowly. “That’s doable. Thank you for the offer, and I’ll be in touch.”
The conversation moved away from personal topics after that. Austin realized that he had missed
the camaraderie with other guys since he had given up his formal career. He had bounced from job to job, keeping to himself and walling off his emotions. Perhaps it was time to let the past go...
Still, it was a hell of a jump from moving on to being stupid enough to put his heart on the line again. Losing Jenny had ripped him in two and nearly made him give up on life. For several years, he had done little more than go through the motions.
He was not the same man he had been before Jenny died.
With an effort, he dragged his attention back to the present. Ryan and Matt seemed to enjoy poking at each other. While they dived into a heated argument about the upcoming World Series, Austin gazed through the large plate-glass window nearby, looking for Brooke. She had finished one entire section of her mural this week. Unicorns and fairies danced with odd little creatures that must be trolls or something like that.
He loved seeing Brooke’s art. It gave him an insight into her fascinating brain. Suddenly, there was movement at the far end of the wall on the other side of the garden.
There she was. Her small aluminum stepladder caught the sun for a moment and cast a blinding reflection. He squinted. What the hell? She was working all the way up under the eaves. Surely the club had an extension ladder. Brooke wasn’t tall enough to reach that section...was she?
He couldn’t really tell from the angle where he was sitting. Austin stood up abruptly, an odd premonition of danger making him jumpy. All three men had finished their meals. Ryan had already signed his name and put the lunches on his account. “I should get back out there,” he said. “Thanks for lunch, guys. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” He shot out of the dining room so fast he was probably being rude, but he couldn’t get over the sight of Brooke stretching up on her tiptoes six feet off the ground.
He strode down the hall and through the terrace doors. At first he didn’t see her at all. But then he spotted her. After doing his damnedest to ignore her for an entire week, suddenly he felt compelled to hunt her down.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he called out, irritation in every syllable.
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