A Real Cowboy Rides a Motorcycle (15 page)

He stared at her, shocked by her words, by the way she'd articulated exactly how he felt when he was with her. He wouldn't have been able to explain it, but the moment she'd said it, he'd known she was right. "That's how I feel."

She smiled, a gentle, genuine smile that seemed to light up her eyes. "I'm glad. You deserve to feel like that, but you know, I get the feeling that Chase and Steen would be willing for you to land there, on the ranch."

"I know." He started trailing his hands through her hair again. "But it's not my thing. I'm not that kind of guy who connects like that. Trying to put down roots is a trap. It makes you blind."

"Like when you didn't see the true nature of your friends and fiancée?"

He nodded. "Exactly like that. I won't make that mistake again. I like my brothers, and I've got their backs, but I don't fit with them, not on a permanent basis." He lifted his head to kiss her, needing to feel the softness of her lips against his.

She melted against him, returning the kiss with such warmth that his gut seemed to twist inside him. Suddenly, he didn't want to talk anymore. He just wanted to lose himself in Taylor, in her kiss, and in her body.

In a single swift move, he rolled over, flipping her beneath him without even breaking the kiss. She slipped her arms around his neck, kissing him back as he moved his knee between her thighs. He was already hard, needing to be inside her. After working so hard to create a solid, immovable foundation under him that no one could derail, he suddenly felt like he was standing on quicksand, and everything he knew was slithering out of his grasp.

He nudged his cock at her entrance, and found she was ready for him. Heat roared through him, and he sheathed himself inside her, desperate to ground himself in her, needing her to be his rock.

She whispered his name, wrapping her legs around his waist as he withdrew and then slid even deeper. As he made love to her, he pulled back, searching her face for the answers to questions he couldn't articulate.

Her fingers laced behind his neck, and she smiled at him. No words, just that private smile that seemed to unleash a thunder inside him.

Suddenly, he felt lost, so unbearably lost, like he was a four-year-old kid, standing on his front porch, trying to understand where he was supposed to go, and how he was supposed to survive. "Taylor." Her name tore from him with a rawness he hadn't intended, and he captured her mouth in a desperate kiss.

He didn't know what he wanted, all he knew was that it was Taylor he needed. Her kiss, her touch, and her voice. Somehow, she filled a void inside him that he hadn't even known was there, but at the same time, being with her created a restlessness inside him that he didn't know how to fix. He plunged deep inside her, and he felt her muscles contract as the orgasm took her. He didn't hesitate, abandoning all vestiges of control so that he tumbled into the orgasm with her, holding her more tightly than he'd ever held anything, or anyone, in his life.

And he still felt like his grip on her was slipping...

Taylor awoke to the shrill ring of her phone. It was the ringtone she'd assigned to Edward, back when he'd been her boyfriend as well as her boss. He'd promised to allow her an actual vacation, but apparently, he was a liar. Too asleep to open her eyes, her hand shot toward her nightstand.

When she didn't find her phone, or even a nightstand, she became aware of Zane wrapped around her, his arms tucking her securely against him. She smiled sleepily, and nestled more deeply into his embrace, as she recalled the previous night. She, the queen of being attached to her phone, had actually left it in her purse when she'd been distracted by an entire night of loving with Zane. She ran her hand over his bare shoulder, and smiled. Her body ached in a thousand places, and all of it was perfect.

Her phone rang again, jerking her back to the present. Her smile fading, she started to slide out from under the covers to retrieve her phone, but Zane's arm snaked out and locked around her waist. He dragged her mercilessly back into the bed without any apparent effort. "Don't answer it," he mumbled, sounding half-asleep.

"It's my boss. I have to." She tried to wiggle out from under his arm, but he gripped her more tightly.

"You're on vacation," he muttered. "In my bed. No phones allowed."

The phone rang again, an incessant beckoning she couldn't ignore. "Zane. It might be important. Let me go." She tried to roll away from him again, but this time, he dragged her all the way into the middle of the mattress, lifted himself up just enough to scoot her beneath him, and then lowered himself on top of her, pinning her to the mattress as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"Love this," he said, his voice muffled. "Waking up with you."

The sleepy honesty of his voice chased away her irritation at being banned from her phone, and she sighed, relaxing back into the sheets. It felt absolutely decadent to have him wrapped around her. She felt like she was waking up in a cocoon of love...well...not
love,
but love. "Zane." She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her feet over his calves, feeling her whole body shudder with relief as she allowed herself to focus on him.

He was right. This was where she wanted to be. With him.

Her phone buzzed that Edward had left a message, and she grimaced. "I should at least check the message—"

He shut her up with a kiss designed to distract her completely from anything but the feel of his body.

It worked.

Yes, real life was hovering in the background, but Zane was right. She was on vacation, in his bed, being kissed most deliciously by a naked cowboy with a heart the size of Wyoming.

Why in heaven's name would she answer her phone?

She wouldn't.

Forget the phone.

For now.

The tightness of Zane's grip on her hand told Taylor all she needed to know about the emotional state of the cowboy sauntering into the funeral as if he owned the place. He was wearing dark blue jeans, a collared shirt, and he'd even shaved. She noticed that he'd selected cowboy boots, despite his avowed aversion to the cowboy identity anymore. He looked incredibly handsome, but at the same time, there was a vulnerability and pain in his eyes that he couldn't hide from her, and his grip on her hand was relentless, as if he were afraid she'd walk away and leave him to face it alone.

He'd sat on his bike for ten minutes down the street from the church, watching everyone walk in, his hands so tight around the handlebars that it was as if they'd become fused to the bike. It had taken him so long to move that she'd begun to think he wasn't going to attend when he'd finally started the bike rolling forward again, sliding it up beside the dumpster on the far side of the lot.

"Zane!" The boy he'd spoken to yesterday at the Garage ran up as they entered the church, throwing his arms around Zane.

Zane swore under his breath, but he wrapped his free arm around the youth, despite the death grip he still had on Taylor's hand. "I'm sorry, Luke." His voice was rough and harsh. "It's my fault."

Luke's brow furrowed as he pulled back to look at Zane. "How is it your fault?"

"I should have been there. I should have found a way. I—"

Taylor squeezed his hand gently, and he looked over at her, pain etched on his face. "You did more for him than anyone else ever did, I would bet," she said softly. "Didn't you?"

He stared at her for a second, then shrugged.

"Zane," Luke said, gripping Zane's arm tightly. "Will you be at the Garage today?" His young face was eager, almost desperate. "I'll shoot hoops with you."

Zane sighed and shook his head. "I told you about my brother, right? The one with the ranch?"

Luke frowned. "Yeah."

"He's about to get married and have a kid. I told him I'd help him out. I have to go to the ranch for a couple weeks. I'll be back soon, though, okay?"

Luke nodded, but there was no mistaking his crestfallen face. "Okay. Sure. Whatever."

"Hey." Zane caught his arm as the boy turned away.

Luke looked back at him. "What?"

"I
will
be back. I'm not abandoning you. You can count on me." His voice was fierce, almost angry, but Luke didn't look scared. On the contrary, he looked relieved.

Luke nodded. "Okay." This time, however, he was smiling.

"Okay." Zane held his arm for one more second, and then released the youth. Zane didn't take his eyes off Luke as he walked across the church toward the front pew, joining Ross, the manager of the Garage, two other women, and a young boy maybe four years old, who was leaning on the back of the pew, watching Zane with wide eyes.

"Is that Luke's family?"

"That's his kid brother, Toby, but they don't have any other family. They're foster kids. His mom's in prison for drugs, and his dad is some deadbeat that no one can find. Ross footed the bill for the funeral, since his brother came to our place." His gaze was moody as he watched Luke put his arm around Toby. "They have no chance," he said softly. "It's a no win for them. They have nothing."

Taylor's heart tightened. "What about aunts or uncles?"

Zane looked over at her. "You got any of those?"

She shook her head.

"Neither do they. Most of the people here didn't know Brad. They're just coming because it's at their church." The anger in his eyes burned, and her heart turned over at the depth of his emotions. But before she could say anything, another boy came up. She recognized him as Luke's little brother, Toby. He slid his hand into Zane's, and Zane immediately crouched down to eye level, engaging in a whispered conversation that she couldn't overhear.

She let out her breath and looked around. The service was sparsely attended, but there were a few adults and some kids, mostly boys. The church was simple, but well-kept, and it had the aura of a place that was pulsing with life and vitality. She was glad that Ross had arranged for the funeral to be held in the church. Maybe the people in attendance hadn't known the boy, but they were there for him.

Toby ran back to the front of the church and climbed up next to Luke in the front pew. Zane had moved away from Taylor, talking in low tones to a woman wearing a navy suit and sensible heels. She looked like she could be a social worker, or a teacher, there to take note of the proceedings. As she watched, another boy tugged on Zane's hand, and he broke off the conversation to talk to the boy, crouching down to give him his full attention.

Her heart began to tighten as she watched Zane interact with the boys. He treated every one of them as if they were the most important conversation he'd had all day, and she could see in their eyes how much his respect meant. He was a natural with them, his soft heart obvious.

He might not want children of his own, but he had enough of a heart to encompass the world.

Tears burned in her eyes, and she had to look away, taking a deep breath to combat the sudden sense of loss. Zane might think he was broken and isolated, but he lived with his full heart and soul more than anyone she'd ever met. He cared, and he used his time to matter. What did she do? All she did was run around with a smartphone and laptop, making sure the hotel had pressed her suits in time for her next meeting.

She couldn't remember ever having the kind of community that Zane was clearly surrounded by.

The music began to play, and Zane walked back over to her. "Hey." His face was taut, and the muscles in his jaw were tense. He grabbed her hand, gripping her tightly as he pulled her toward him.

She realized that despite the show of ease he was putting on, and the connection he had with so many of these kids, in truth, he was nearly undone by the situation. The loneliness she'd felt drifted away, replaced by a need to be there for him. "Let's sit." She led him to a nearby pew, one that was empty.

He sat next to her, so close that his shoulder was against hers. He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs. His shoulders were bunched, and his head was down, and he'd sandwiched her hand between his. The tension radiating from him was palpable, and she leaned forward, resting her face against his. "Do you want to leave?"

He nodded. "But I have to stay."

"Okay." She leaned against him as the minister began to talk about the value of life, and honoring those who are no longer with us.

Zane's grip tightened on her hand. "This shouldn't have happened," he whispered. "I couldn't get him to come to the Garage. He thought it was a bunch of crap. I tried. I fucking tried, but not enough. I let him go. I figured he'd find his way.
Shit.
"

Her heart twisted at the depths of his self-recrimination. "Everyone chooses their own path, Zane." She kept her voice low, quietly speaking just to him. "You couldn't force him. All these other kids respond to you. You're doing a lot right. Don't let this make you doubt yourself."

He looked over at her, the desolation stark on his face. "When I was fifteen, my best friend wanted to steal a car. I had a rodeo to go to. I went to the rodeo. He crashed the car and died. If it weren't for the bulls, I'd be dead. Chase gave that to me, but I couldn't give it to the one kid who needed it."

She had no words to ease the torment on his face. "I'm sorry, Zane."

He nodded, crushing her hand between his as he faced forward again, but he was still hunched over, his arms on his thighs, and his head bowed. He wasn't moving, and appeared to be deep in thought, but the death grip he had on her hand told her the truth that he wasn't letting anyone else see: that he was barely hanging on.

She moved closer to him, resting her shoulder against his, giving him the only comfort she could give, which was the knowledge that he wasn't alone. With her, he didn't have to pretend to be anything other than who he was.

It wasn't much, but she knew that it was all he wanted from her, and she would give it to him.