A Bravo Homecoming Page 11

  He knew that she hadn’t. Before this, with them, she’d only been with one other guy. That SOB, Zach Gunn. And that was only one time.

  He was seriously tempted. Enough so that his pants were getting way too tight.

  But no. Just because she was so open and willing and sweet about everything didn’t mean he had a right to sulk until she offered to do him in the car because the cabin was taken.

  It was their first all-the-way time they were talking about. It should be in a bed. Not in his Caddy on the side of the road.

  “Or,” she whispered, her clever fingers trailing up the inside of his thigh, making him ache to haul her close, “we could get a room in Fredericksburg….”

  He put his hand over hers. “Uh-uh.” He gently peeled her fingers off his thigh and brought them to his lips.

  Her eyes were soft as a summer sky. “Changed your mind, huh?”

  “It’s not going to kill me to wait until tonight.”

  “Coulda fooled me.” She laughed.

  He kissed the back of her hand, and then gently returned it to her lap. “So. Fredericksburg.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  And it was fun.

  They strolled along Main Street hand-in-hand, visiting half the shops there. At the Fredericksburg General Store, she bought a Betty Boop Christmas ornament and a souvenir billed hat that said “Happiness Is Drinking German Beer.”

  They stopped in at a bakery for coffee. He watched her gorgeous face across the two-seater corner table from him and thought how just being with her was the greatest. How he could really see himself spending his life with her.

  And that kind of scared him. Enough that she noticed.

  “Travis? You okay?”

  “Fine.” He picked up his coffee cup, took a slow sip. “Why?”

  “You kind of slipped away there all of a sudden.”

  He had the craziest urge right then to take her hand—the one with his ring already on it—and tell her he wanted to make it official. To make it real between them in every way. He wanted to marry her.

  Right away, as soon as they could get a license.

  Before…

  What?

  Before I lose her. The words echoed in his head.

  But that made no sense.

  Sam was just as into this thing between them as he was. There was no reason to think he was going to lose her.

  And how could he lose her, anyway? She was Sam. His best friend. A guy didn’t just suddenly lose his best friend.

  Unless something happens to her. Like something happened to Rachel…

  Rachel.

  When the accident happened, the wedding was only a week away. The day before, Rachel’s grandmother, in Dallas, had taken a fall. So her mom and dad had driven up there to make sure the old woman got the care she needed.

  Because Rachel’s parents couldn’t be reached and he was the fiancé, he’d been called in to identify her.

  Rachel, so pale and still on that cold steel table. Not Rachel anymore, not really.

  Because Rachel was gone. Lost to him. Forever and ever. He couldn’t get his mind around that.

  Never to see her again. Never to hear her laugh.

  Never to call her his wife.

  He hadn’t cried. There were no tears in him. There was nothing in him. A certain numbness. A will for revenge.

  But there would be no revenge. The drunk bastard who’d hit her was dead, too. He’d wrapped his sports car around a light pole a few minutes after he’d run her down.

  Powerless. He’d felt powerless. Rachel was gone forever. He hadn’t been there to save her and there was nothing he could do to make it right. His gut twisted.

  And then he chucked his cookies. Right there in the morgue. He’d thrown up all over his own damn boots….

  “Travis?” Sam’s voice came to him. Her face swam into view.

  What the hell did he think he was doing, anyway?

  Wasn’t it only yesterday morning that he’d sat across from Sam in the suite at the Four Seasons and told himself he would never leave himself open for that kind of pain again?

  “Travis? Travis, are you okay?” Sam leaned toward him across the table. There was a world of worry in those blue eyes of hers.

  He blinked, shook his head. “Fine. Really. Didn’t I already say that?”

  “You don’t look so good.” She reached out.

  He caught her hand. Her capable, soft, strong hand.

  And everything changed. Just from the touch of her hand.

  All at once, he was…okay. Truly okay. His crazy, irrational fears receded.

  There was just him. And Sam. In this cute little bakery. Sharing the afternoon before heading to his sister’s for a family dinner.

  “Sorry,” he said. And he leaned across the table.

  She still had questions in her eyes. But she met him halfway, shared the kiss he offered, a quick, innocent kiss, given that they were sitting in a public place. “But are you—?”

  He didn’t let her finish. “I mean it. It’s nothing.”

  She freed her hand from his and sank back to her chair. “So how come I don’t believe you?”

  “Sam.” He waited for her to meet his gaze. “I was just daydreaming, that’s all.”

  “You didn’t look like you were daydreaming.” She kept her voice low, for his ears alone. “You looked like you saw a ghost.”

  A ghost. Well, in a way, he had. But he wasn’t seeing a ghost now. He saw only Sam. Everything would be all right. He was ready for this. Ready at last. “No ghost. I promise you.”

  She opened her mouth to say something—and then she changed her mind. Instead, she picked up her coffee cup, sipped from it, set it carefully down. And then she turned her head to stare out the window.

  He just sat there. He knew her so well. She wasn’t the kind to push and prod at a man. All he had to do was wait.

  It worked. After a minute, she turned to him again. “I would…” She seemed to fumble for the right words. “You know I’m here, right? Anything you say to me, I can take it.”

  “I know.” He said it firmly but gently. “But there’s nothing.”

  She glanced away again, but only for a second. Then she resolutely faced him once more. She sucked in a slow breath and she made herself smile. “Well, okay, then. If you say so.”

  Chapter Nine

  Other than the strange and unsettling incident in the bakery, Sam had a great time that afternoon and evening. She and Travis toured the Pioneer Museum before heading for Abilene’s house.

  The house was southeast of Fredericksburg on a beautiful piece of land, with a clear creek running in the back and a view of craggy limestone peaks from the kitchen windows. It had a giant great room at its heart and an extra kitchen outside for use in the warmer months of the year. It was on two levels, with an elevator as well as a staircase, so that Donovan could get around with ease in his wheelchair.

  By six-fifteen, everyone in the family was there—except for Jericho and Marnie. They rolled up on their choppers at six-thirty, looking windblown and slightly flushed and way too pleased with themselves.

  The family was gathered in the great room then, filling the vaulted space with lively conversation and the occasional burst of shared laughter. They sipped cold drinks and munched finger-food appetizers. All the kids who were old enough to walk were either playing with Abilene’s two rescue kittens or following her three mutt dogs around, trying to pet them.

  Travis leaned close to Sam when Jericho and his wife came in. “They look happy.”

  She whispered back, “Well, who doesn’t enjoy a nice, long…ride?”

  He laughed and put an arm around her, drawing her close to brush a kiss at her temple. Aleta happened to be sitting in her line of sight. Travis’s mom saw their interaction, including the quick, affectionate kiss. And she beamed in motherly satisfaction.

  Sam realized she no longer felt guilty for pretending to be engaged. There really was nothing to feel
that guilty about anymore. She and Travis were…what?

  The word came to her: serious.

  Yeah. They were serious about each other, about this longtime friendship of theirs that had bloomed overnight into something so much more. Something so sweet and real. And hot.

  Sam was glad it pleased Aleta to see them together. His mom seemed to believe that all Travis had ever needed was to let go of the past and find a good woman to make his life complete.

  Maybe that was true. Sam didn’t mind at all thinking of herself as the good woman his mama had been hoping he’d find. The only thing that nagged at her was the question of whether he’d really let the past go—or if maybe there was something else that was eating at him. She needed to talk to him about that.

  But somehow, so far, she hadn’t found a way to get him to talk about it. Which was weird in itself.

  She and Travis had always been able to talk about everything. He knew all her secrets.

  And she was the one he came to when he needed to talk. She knew how much he’d suffered when he lost Rachel. And how rotten he’d felt when Wanda took off with another guy, how he’d blamed himself. Because he was still in love with Rachel—or at least, with the memory of Rachel. And Wanda had known.

  But today, in the bakery, he’d lied right to her face. She’d seen the stricken look in his eyes. Yet he’d insisted that there was nothing wrong. She should probably have kept after him, not given up until he busted to the truth.

  Then again, well, everything was changing between them now. They were creating a whole new kind of relationship. Maybe she needed to be patient with him, give him time to get used to being more than just friends, time to open up to her the way he always had before.

  His warm fingers closed over hers. Everyone was going in to eat. Holding hands, side-by-side, they followed the crowd to the dining room.

  Travis couldn’t wait to get Sam back to their rooms at Bravo Ridge.

  But they stayed at Abilene’s until midnight after all. They played Texas Hold ’em with Abilene, Donovan, Jericho and Marnie. It was fun, really. And he knew Sam was having a great time.

  When he finally eased the Cadillac into the six-car garage down the curving path at the side of the ranch house, all was quiet. Luke and Mercy, Elena and Rogan, and their kids had returned earlier. So had his parents.

  He and Sam went in the front door and tiptoed up the stairs together. The second he got her inside his room, he pushed the door shut and turned the privacy lock. He tipped up her chin and found her mouth in the darkness.

  “Wait here,” he whispered against her sweet, parted lips.

  She made a low, questioning sound, but she didn’t say anything.

  He left her to turn on a lamp. And before he went to her again, he detoured through the open door to her room. He engaged the privacy lock on the hall door in there.

  He was back at her side in seconds. “Alone at last,” he whispered.

  She laughed and shook the Walgreens bag she’d carried in from the car. “With plenty of condoms.”

  “All is right with the world.” He took her free hand and pulled her over to the side of the turned-down bed.

  And then he took her in his arms.

  The Walgreens bag dropped to the rug as she kissed him. Within maybe sixty seconds, her clothes and his clothes were in a pile at their feet.

  They had to stop kissing to dig through all the clothing and retrieve the bag.

  “Got it.” She held it up with a triumphant smile.

  He grabbed her wrist, pulled her to her feet—and back into his arms. He couldn’t get enough of the silky, strong feel of her body, of her full, firm breasts and her shapely wide shoulders. He stroked her back, tracing the bumps of her spine. And then he slipped a hand between them, drinking in her gasp of excitement as he dipped a finger into the wet heat of her.

  She was so ready. And so was he.

  He needed to be inside her, joined with her. But he tried to remember that there had been only one other time for her, all those years ago, and that that one time hadn’t been good. He forced himself to take it slow, using his thumb to tease the swollen heart of her pleasure, dipping his fingers inside.

  She moved against his touch, moaning, and he felt her inner muscles relaxing, felt the greater wetness. He eased another finger in. She sighed in pleasure. He knew she was right at the edge.

  But she didn’t allow him to take her over. Instead, she pushed him onto the bed and followed him down. The Walgreens bag crackled as it ended up under him. Her mouth still fused to his, she gave a tug and freed it.

  And then she broke the scorching kiss. She was pulling away from him.

  He tried to catch her, to take her lips again and resume the kiss, to regain the deep and intimate touch. But she was quicker.

  Laughing and breathless, her face and upper chest flushed with excited color, she sat back against the pillows. Gathering her gorgeous, muscular legs up, crossing them yoga-style, she opened the bag. “Hmm, what do we have here?”

  “You,” he said darkly, still flat on his back, his desire for her way too evident. “You’re driving me crazy. You know that, right?” With her legs crossed like that, he could see everything, all sweet and pink and so temptingly wet for him. And it wasn’t only that. It was the sheer animal beauty of her, the strength and power in every sleek, smooth inch.

  She reminded him of the women in the science fiction novels he couldn’t get enough of as a kid—warrior women, tall and commanding, who lived in strange jungles on faraway planets, who dressed in leather pelts and hammered silver and hunted fantastical creatures using only a shield and spear. Women who didn’t need men—or thought they didn’t.

  Until the right spaceship captain dropped out of the sky.

  “I think…this one.” She pulled a shiny red box from the bag and dropped the bag onto the nightstand.

  As if he cared which one she chose. He grabbed her ankle. “Come back here.”

  “Patience, patience.” She reached down, peeled his fingers free, brought them to her lips—and sucked his index finger into her mouth. He almost lost it right there. And then she rubbed her tongue around it. He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes and looked away. Finally, she let his finger go. And she teased, “A well isn’t drilled in a day.”

  He groaned and turned to look at her again. It made him ache to look, but it was a glorious kind of pain. “Don’t talk about drilling,” he pleaded. “It just isn’t fair.”

  “Whoever told you it was going to be fair?” She opened the box and removed a wrapped pouch. Then, taking her sweet, agonizing time about it, she shut the box and set it on the nightstand with the bag. “Hmm.” She neatly tore the wrapper off the pouch.

  And then, just like that, her bright, bold confidence vanished. Holding the naked-looking circle of lubricated latex, she bit her lip and sighed. He saw the shy and tender woman within, the one she’d spent years trying to hide from the tough, able men who worked in the oil business.

  His heart turned to mush.

  That time when he reached to touch her, it was to soothe her. He clasped her knee, lightly, gently. “Hey. Okay?”

  She confessed, her head tipped down, “I’m a little…nervous, I guess.”

  He sat up then, scooted around beside her, and laid an arm across her velvety-smooth shoulders. Drawing her close to him, he guided her head down against his chest. “We don’t have to do this right now.”

  She gave a sad little chuckle. “That’s not what you’ve been saying all afternoon.”

  He smoothed her hair, rubbed her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know I was an ass this afternoon.”

  Of course she had to jump to his defense. “No, you weren’t.”

  “I was.” He kissed the crown of her head, loving the clean, silky feel of her hair against his mouth, enjoying her fresh scent. “I do want you. So bad. It’s like a revelation to me, you know? You and me. Together. After all these years.”

  “Yeah, I get that. I know what you
mean. It’s the same for me.”

  “But, Sam, I can wait until you’re ready. Until you’re…comfortable.”

  “I am comfortable. It’s only…” She lifted her head and they gazed at each other. She admitted in a small voice, “It was pretty bad, that one time with Zach.”

  Zach Gunn. The bastard. He said intently, “The guy was a major jerk.”

  “I took the wrapper off this thing—” she still had the condom in her hand “—and it all came back. How rough he was. How much it hurt. How I tried to be…I don’t know, brave. Tough. To act like I knew what I was doing. And it only got worse. It only hurt more. But I stuck it out. And then afterward, he went and told everyone how bad I was in bed. He said I might be female, but I sure wasn’t a real woman. No wonder I was stronger than half the guys on the rig.”

  Listening to her now, seeing the old pain haunt her eyes, he wished he could get that SOB alone again, rearrange his face a second time. “You are a woman. All woman.”

  A wobbly smile came and went. “Oh, Travis…”

  “And I would never do you that way. I couldn’t stand to hurt you. And what happens between us, that’s only between us.”

  “I know.”

  He gave her a coaxing smile. “Though if I did talk about you—which I never would—it would only be about how amazing and beautiful you are. How I can’t get enough of you. How you drive me stark raving out of my mind and I sincerely hope you will continue to do so for a long, long time to come.”

  Hesitantly, she lifted her free hand. Her fingers brushed the side of his face, so lightly, before she withdrew them. “But the things that have happened to us in the past…they can be powerful. They can still have a grip on us. If we let them, they can destroy our happiness. They can ruin what we have now. You know?” Her eyes searched his.

  And he realized she wasn’t talking about only herself. She meant those bad moments he’d had in the bakery in the afternoon. “The past is not going to ruin what we have, Sam.” He spoke slowly. Deliberately. “I won’t let it. We won’t let it.”

  She sucked in a trembling breath. “You sound so sure.”