Taken, Not Spurred

  “Cock,” he suggested. “You’d lower yourself on my cock.”

  Her hand tightened on him and she echoed the word in a whisper. “Cock.”

  The mixture of innocence and siren drove him wild. He jerked and almost came in her hand, cursing that he could be so close so soon. “I’ll go get the rope,” he said in a rush, stumbling a bit as he stepped back from her. She’d done it again, bulldozed through what he considered a nonnegotiable line in the sand.

  Some things were worth keeping an open mind about, though.

  And he was sure there wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t agree with him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A few days later, Sarah catnapped beside Tony on the couch, snuggled beneath a light comforter. Time was passing too quickly—a blur of showering together between games they often didn’t finish because one of them lost patience and leaned in for a heated kiss that would lead them both astray.

  Although Sarah had left her notebook in the car, she knew that when she returned to it, her writing would be stronger. Plus, she wasn’t worried that she would forget the wonder of one kiss, one touch, or a single moment they’d spent together.

  Especially the unexpected revelations.

  Even days filled with passion and laughter can be enhanced by the use of a toothbrush and a dash of deodorant. I’ll leave that tidbit out of my romance. No one will want to hear about how fast the heroine’s leg stubble can grow or that unsuccessful attempts to pretend she can cook may lead to a condition called “the nervous fart that must be held in at all costs.”

  If romances were a bit more realistic, I may have looked less maniacal about the latter discovery.

  One definite perk of remaining unpredictable with Tony was that he didn’t question her need to do a naked, solo, outdoor lap around the house before they had sex the night before. She’d waited for him to ask, but he hadn’t.

  Smart man.

  She closed her eyes and chuckled as she remembered the contents of the care package Carl had left along with the supplies they’d ordered: a huge box of condoms, all the fixings to make an ice-cream sundae except the ice cream, and vitamins. She and Tony had burst out laughing at the sight of the last item, but decided not to question the wisdom of a self-proclaimed expert.

  When she opened her eyes, she found Tony watching her.

  “What do you do for your parents’ business?” he asked, surprising her. They had avoided personal questions since their talk near the stream.

  “I file, bill people, set up appointments.”

  “You like it?”

  “I hate it.”

  “I didn’t take you for someone who would tolerate doing something you didn’t like for very long.”

  “You’d be surprised. But I’m working on that. That’s what this trip is about—figuring out what I really want.”

  “And then you’ll go home.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Not if you ask me to stay. “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “A woman like you would never be happy out here.”

  A woman like me? His words stung like a slap. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  He held up her perfectly manicured nails, running his work-roughened thumb over the soft palm of her hand. “You don’t have a callus on you, do you?”

  She snatched her hand away. “I didn’t know they were a prerequisite to visiting Texas.”

  “Don’t get all riled up by an observation.”

  “Then don’t try to tell me where I could or couldn’t be happy. A callus or lack of one doesn’t mean a thing.”

  “I’ve seen your horse.”

  She huffed. “What’s wrong with Scooter?”

  “Probably nothing where you come from. But most people down here don’t put glitter on hooves and bows in manes.”

  “So the extra time I take grooming my horse is proof that I wouldn’t fit in here?”

  “I never said that.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  He sighed. “It’s just a different way of looking at things.”

  “You think it’s better to not even know the name of the horse you ride?”

  “I know my horses.”

  “Do you? I never hear you talk about them. I can’t believe you can have all those horses and not love one.”

  “No need to get attached to something that’s not staying.”

  Like me? Sarah thought with a shudder. “What a sad way to live.”

  Tony looked up at the ceiling, shifting so he could tuck an arm beneath his head. “Not sad, just practical.”

  Sarah moved so that she was above him, blocking his view. “Look me in the eye and tell me you never had a horse you were attached to.”

  For a moment he looked cornered, angry. His whole body tensed, but she didn’t back down, she just raised her eyebrows and waited.

  “I had a mare when I was twelve. My dad had gotten her for free from someone who couldn’t handle her. He’d hoped to train her a bit and sell her for a profit, but he couldn’t stay on her long enough to teach her anything.”

  Sarah laid a hand on Tony’s chest, felt the heavy thud of his heart, and knew from the tension in him that she’d stumbled on another of his scars. “But you rode her?”

  He nodded. “I did. She taught me about patience and how to listen to a horse. I hit the dirt a lot that summer before we worked things out.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “My father sold her.” His even tone might have fooled others, but Sarah heard what he didn’t allow himself to say.

  “Even though you wanted her.”

  Tony looked her in the eye and said harshly, “It was the right thing to do. We needed the money, not an animal we couldn’t afford to feed.”

  “Where did she end up?” Sarah asked softly.

  “I don’t know. My dad left me to do chores while he took her to auction.”

  Sarah’s heart broke for him, but she kept the depth of her sorrow to herself. There was too much more she wanted to know to risk shutting the conversation down. “What was her name?”

  Tony closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and said, “Missy. She was nothing special, just a grade horse, a mixed breed for sure.”

  “But you loved her.”

  He didn’t deny it.

  “Do you ever take in troubled horses now?” she asked.

  There was that wall again. She felt him withdraw emotionally even before he answered. “I don’t have time for other people’s problems.”

  Sarah looked into his eyes, past his irritation with her questions, and saw the hurt he tried to conceal from her. He was afraid to care about a horse that wasn’t his. He didn’t want to love and lose again. She felt compelled to show him how it could be.

  She laid her head upon his chest and said, “I know you don’t think much of Scooter, but I’ve had him for seven years, and he’s part of me. There were times when he was the only part I liked. I let guilt hold me down. I let my life get smaller and smaller until it nearly suffocated me, but whenever I would take Scooter out on the trails behind the barn, we would run. He’s so smooth it felt like we were flying. And for just a few minutes, I was free and anything was possible.” She peered up at him and admitted, “You make me feel the same way.”

  She could have sworn that he’d looked down at her in agreement, but the moment passed and his expression turned into a scowl. “I suppose it’s a compliment that I’m on level with your horse.”

  Sarah pinched him lightly. “He’s easier to get along with, though, so sometimes he ranks higher.”

  In one strong move, Tony rolled over on top of her. “Is that so? Well, let’s see what I can do to improve my standing a bit.”

  Loving the feel of his arousal growing against her stomach, Sarah wrapped her arms around his neck
eagerly and joked, “Standing, sitting, rolling around on the floor—I’ve enjoyed all of your ideas so far.”

  “That’s good,” he said between hot kisses to her neck, “because I can’t get enough of you.”

  Even as her body began to hum with desire for him, her mind raced at his words. Could this be it? Is Tony the man I’m meant to be with?

  Is this how forever starts?

  Tony moved his attention lower to brush his lips tenderly across the tips of her breasts, and Sarah buried both of her hands in his hair.

  If so, I’m all in.

  On the sixth day, during the third hour, Sarah rolled over to face him in their bed. He smiled warmly at her and her heart filled with worry. They hadn’t talked about what would happen next. Neither had mentioned their self-imposed time limit on their paradise.

  I thought I was done hiding, but isn’t that what we’ve done all week?

  Our lives haven’t changed. Everything is the same back there—in reality.

  Why did I give myself six more days of him?

  Five more than I needed to know there was no avoiding this heartbreak. Like a movie that you know ends badly, but you can’t stop watching.

  What if this is it? We go home and it’s over?

  Why did I think more time together would make things better?

  “It’s Tuesday,” she said sadly, waiting for the reassurance she needed.

  “I know,” he replied, his jaw tight and his expression guarded for the first time since she’d practically dragged him back into his own cabin.

  Worry turned to panic. No, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. “I don’t want to go back,” she admitted hoarsely.

  He didn’t say anything, but she saw the torment in his eyes before he lowered his lids to conceal it from her.

  Give me something, she pleaded silently. Anything to hold on to.

  I’ll go first, if that’s what it takes. “I never knew it could be like this,” she said.

  “You got your research for your book, then,” he said blandly, dismissively.

  Quick, hot anger filled her. Bastard. “Is that how this will end? You become an asshole again?”

  “I’m the same man you came here with, Sarah. I haven’t changed.” He met her gaze coolly.

  She wanted to shake him, hit him, force him to admit he cared. Instead, she said, “Would it be so bad if you did? Can’t you give us a chance?”

  You’re so close. I know how hard it is to face the past, but I’ve done it and you want to. And when you do, you’ll see how we were sent to help each other. I’ve never believed anything more strongly.

  “I told you that I have nothing more than this to offer you.”

  I don’t believe you mean that. “So, what now? Do you want me to leave as soon as we return?”

  “You can do whatever the hell you want to. Most people do.” He turned away and gathered his clothing.

  Sarah would have thrown something at his head if she’d had anything to throw. Instead, she pulled the sheet around herself and went to gather her own clothing. Wordlessly, they gathered the toiletries they’d brought into the cabin and took them back to her vehicle.

  He chose the driver’s seat, and nothing about the tense set of his jaw and the way he refused to look her in the eye implied the ride home would remotely mirror the ride there. They had driven about halfway back when she could no longer keep her thoughts to herself.

  Staring straight ahead, Sarah said quietly, “Sometimes I think you’re the man I’ve waited my whole life to meet. You’re gorgeous, you’re great in bed, and you have a tortured side that helps me feel less alone in my own hell. We could be more than lovers, we could be friends, too. I feel safe when I’m in your arms. But then, sometimes, like now, I wonder if I’m completely wrong and you’re nothing more than a coward.”

  Red spread up his neck and across his face, but he didn’t snap back at her as she’d expected him to—half hoped he would. She was afraid of losing him, but his silence was proof that he was already gone.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and said, “Shit happens, Tony. You can’t let guilt destroy your life. We both have to live with what we’ve done. No, we can’t bring them back, but there has to be something we can do—some way to heal. I’m going to find that something. When you stop feeling so sorry for yourself, maybe you should do the same.”

  In my novel, this is where the hero will melt, take the heroine in his arms, and beg for forgiveness. He won’t stare at the road ahead pretending he didn’t hear her, once again demonstrating why fiction trumps reality any day.

  When they pulled into the driveway at the ranch, Sarah could no longer hold her tears back. She let out a sob as she fumbled for the door handle. He reached across her to open the door, then kept his arm in front of her as he said, “I’m sorry, Sarah.”

  She pushed at his arm, but he didn’t move it. She snapped, “Just being sorry isn’t enough. Get out of my car. I’ll hook my trailer, get Scooter, and you’ll never have to see either of us again.”

  He held her captive by blocking what would otherwise have been her escape route. “You can’t leave in the middle of the day without setting up places to stop along the way, and you shouldn’t drive while you’re upset.”

  She hated that he was right, but that didn’t stop her from spinning in her seat and snarling, “You don’t get to tell me to leave and then sound like you want me to stay.”

  His jaw tightened, and his admission sounded as if she’d wrung it from him. “I didn’t tell you to leave.”

  Sarah’s blood pressure rose and she shook her head angrily. “You think I’ll stay with you, knowing you have no feelings for me? Are you hoping for a bit more cheap sex before I go?”

  He didn’t look pleased, but he said, “You can have the guest room again.”

  Sarah’s breath caught in her throat. What is he saying? What does this mean? “And what? We act like nothing happened?” I can’t do that.

  “Or you make the phone calls you need to and leave when you’re ready.”

  I can’t do that, either.

  I can’t go back to where we were, like the last week didn’t change everything for me.

  And I hate you for being able to.

  How can you close me out like this?

  “No.”

  “I’ll ask Melanie if you can stay with her for a few nights.”

  Brilliant idea, because that’s the only place I can imagine I’d be less comfortable.

  I should peel out of here, letting the smell of burning rubber express my feelings.

  Sarah searched Tony’s expression for any sign that he cared for her, but he had his walls firmly back in place. There are about a million reasons why I should tell you where you could shove that last suggestion.

  And only one reason not to.

  Because I’m not ready to give up on you yet, Tony.

  “Fine, ask Melanie. I’m sure she’d love to have me.”

  “You want Sarah to stay here with me and my son? Are you serious?” Melanie asked from the doorway of her house.

  He looked her in the eye without answering her question. He didn’t need to. She knew he wasn’t the type to joke.

  Melanie held the doorknob with one tense hand. “Did you not see how she was with me the day you two left? We don’t get along.”

  Tony wasn’t asking. He wasn’t budging until she agreed. “Sarah needs a place to stay while she sorts out how to get home.”

  Melanie hedged, suggesting, “How about a place in town?”

  Tony shook his head, unwilling to even consider the option.

  Pursing her lips in irritation, Melanie said, “I don’t see why she can’t stay with you. It’s not like the whole town doesn’t know how close you’ve gotten.”

  He was about to tell her that the house she
lived in was his, not hers. Anger swept through him and he’d barely opened his mouth when Melanie spoke before him in a rush. “I shouldn’t have said that. Whatever happened between the two of you is none of my business.” When he didn’t say anything, she said, “I need this job, Tony. Sarah can stay here.”

  A wave of shame swept over him, rocking him back on his heels. When did I become the man that single mothers believe would throw them out in the streets with their children? He rubbed his forehead angrily. Her house was the only home her son had ever known. He removed his hat and said, “You’re not fired, Melanie.”

  Melanie nodded, visibly relaxing in response to his quiet tone. He hated the tears that came to her eyes as she said, “Thank you. I don’t know where I’d go if I was.”

  Tony shook his head, his remorse deepening, and although he strove to distance himself from it, he couldn’t muster anger or indifference. All he felt was a deep regret that she had lived so long in a state of desperation that he’d never even noticed. Why didn’t she have savings? She didn’t pay rent. Where was her money going? He felt worse when he realized how very little he knew about a woman who had worked for him for the past four years.

  He turned to walk away. The screen door slammed behind him, and he figured Melanie had gone back inside until he heard her call his name. “Tony.”

  He looked back over his shoulder.

  “Send Sarah over. I have an extra room just sitting here, and it might be nice to have another woman to talk to.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” he said gruffly.

  She squared her shoulders and put on a bright smile. “I know I don’t, but I want to do this for you. Send her. It’ll be fine.”

  He settled his hat deep on his head and nodded without returning her smile. “I appreciate it,” he said, and realized that he sincerely did. Those two women were like oil and water, and Melanie’s instincts were probably right that mixing the two wasn’t wise, but he wasn’t ready for the alternative.

  He wasn’t ready for Sarah to leave.

  Chapter Fourteen

  In her wildest imaginating of how her first day back on Tony’s ranch would go, Sarah had never dreamed it would include an invitation from Melanie to stay at her house for a couple of days. Sarah searched her face for a sign of sarcasm but found none. What did Tony threaten her with that made her willing to stand there and pretend she doesn’t hate me?