A Real Cowboy Rides a Motorcycle (16 page)

Being on his bike had never felt so good.

Zane gripped the handlebars more fiercely as he sped along the winding roads. He'd skipped the highway, needing the silence and solace of nature to cleanse the funeral from his system. What the hell had he been thinking, going there? He didn't belong there. Luke's face. Hell. The kid's face had been devastated when Zane had told him he was leaving.

How had that kid come to count on him? When had that happened? He'd shown them all what happened when he got involved with those kids. They died. So why had Luke and Toby looked at him like he could fix everything for them?

Shit.

He kicked up the heat, flying through the winding roads.

"Zane?" Taylor's voice echoed in his helmet.

He swore at the sound of her voice, his gut lurching. He couldn't believe he'd lost his shit in front of her. He was embarrassed as hell at the way he'd clung to her, like some pansy. But at the same time, he wasn't going to lie that if she hadn't been there, he would have walked out. She was the only reason he'd managed to stay. "Yeah?"

"You're scaring me."

He gritted his jaw. Just because he'd been silent and uncommunicative, she was getting upset? See? That was the problem when he got close to people. They wanted more from him when he had nothing more to give.

"Can you slow down?"

"Slow down?" He glanced at the speedometer, and swore when he saw how fast he was driving. He immediately eased off the gas. "That's why you're scared? Because of my speed?" Not because he'd been moody. Because he'd been driving too fast.
Hell.
He noticed suddenly how tightly she was gripping him. Her knuckles where white from holding so hard, and her thighs were clenched around his hips.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know you needed to go fast, but it's just too much around those curves."

Shit. He was an ass for not noticing she was worried. "Sorry." He slowed even further, and he felt her take a shuddering breath and lean her head against his back.

"Thanks. I just need a minute." Her grip on his waist hadn't lessened, even though they were at a crawl now. "I'm really sorry. I don't want to interfere."

"It's okay." His irritation at her disappeared, replaced by guilt about failing to notice what he was doing to her. He burned for the adrenaline rush of speed and danger. Since he couldn't get it from the bulls anymore, he got it from the bike. He'd been an insensitive ass not to be aware that she might not feel the same way. "Let's take a break." He pulled the bike off the road, driving a few yards off the main road into a cluster of trees. He stopped the bike and turned it off.

Taylor sagged against him, her entire upper body limp against his back. She peeled her hands off his waist. As she moved them, he saw they were trembling. Guilt hammered hard and he took her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her palm. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm really, really sorry."

"You're upset. It's okay."

"No, it's not." He swung his leg off the bike and jerked his helmet off. Taylor already had hers off. Her face was pale, and her hair was a mess. A sexy-as-hell mess that he wanted to bury himself in and forget all the crap. Except he couldn't. He'd betrayed her by scaring her. "Listen." He ran his hand through his hair, wishing he was anywhere but where he was, and living any life except the one he was living. "It was a complete asshole move to drive that fast. I didn't even realize you were scared.
Shit.
" Unable to take the steadiness of her gaze, he moved away, his boots kicking up dust from the parched ground.

He heard Taylor sigh behind him, and his jaw tightened. Maybe this was for the best, a steady reminder for both of them that he wasn't a man she should count on. Even if he wanted to be the kind of guy people could depend on, he couldn't do it. Better that they both remembered.

He hopped up onto a six-foot boulder, sat down, and draped his arms over his knees, glaring at the foothills in the distance. How was he going to go back to the ranch right now? How was he going to keep sleeping with Taylor? This was why he never committed to a place. If no one expected anything from him, he could take off when he wanted. Right now, he just wanted to ride until he was so far away from everything that it felt like he never had to go back.

Taylor's boots scraped on the rock, and he tensed, listening to her as she climbed up beside him. His fists bunched, but he didn't look at her as she sat next to him, mimicking his pose.

He ground his jaw, waiting for the recriminations that he knew would come. Which would she start with? His antisocial behavior at the funeral? The fact he'd scared her on the bike? It didn't matter. He'd already apologized. There was nothing more he could do.

"After Dan left me for that other teacher, I left town for six weeks," she said quietly.

He didn't look at her, but his jaw tightened at the reminder of the man she'd given her heart to. He wasn't worthy of her, and he didn't want the obligations of a relationship, but the thought of her with anyone else hurt like hell.

"I just got in my car and drove over seven thousand miles."

He glanced over at her then, but she wasn't looking at him. She was staring across the parched plains, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. She looked vulnerable and small, and he wanted to drag her into his arms and protect her. Why did he have the hero complex with her? He wasn't meant for that role.

She continued, apparently ignoring his turmoil. "I was trying to find a place to settle down. I drove through so many small towns, looking for the place that called to me, but, as you might expect, there were children and men everywhere I went."

A small laugh escaped him. "Bastards."

She managed a half-smile, but she didn't pick her chin up from her knees. "I finally realized that any kind of home would make the loss too great. So, I got a job that required me to travel almost all the time, and that was it. I basically gave up a home and connections. Mira is the only friend I still have who's not a part of my work, and my work friends are just colleagues."

He frowned, listening carefully now. "So, you're like me, only you use a plane and I use a bike."

"Yep. That's why I knew what you were doing today." She finally looked over at him. "Here's the thing, Zane. You might think you're not worthy or you don't belong, but you're wrong. The reason Luke and those boys look up to you is because they know you respect them and would do anything to help them." She smiled when he started to feel mutinous again. "Your brothers want you home, too. You have so many people who care—"

"I didn't ask them to care."

"I know, but they do." She turned to face him. "They all know the real you, and your background, and they see value in you anyway. Believe them when they say you're worthy."

He ground his jaw. "I know I'm a decent guy. I just don't want to owe anyone anything. When people count on you, you're going to fail them."

"Like how your mom failed you?"

He shrugged. "My mom sucked. She's not worth talking about." His dad was a bastard too. A perfect team. At least his mom had moved out of the Stockton house before his dad had started beating him, unlike his brothers.

"Maybe you're more worried about people failing you, than you are about failing them."

Okay, that was enough. He wasn't interested in this kind of discussion. He stood up to vault off the rock. "Let's get going—"

"I'm scared that people are going to fail me," she said softly, not moving. She was staring out across the plains again. "I didn't realize it until I met you. You made me see that I was living in a cocoon. When I got here, and I was shut out by Mira, I wanted to leave. Yesterday morning, I wanted to leave, too. When everyone was sitting around the table, I felt like I didn't belong."

He got that sentiment. He wanted to leave right now. But he was rooted to the spot, unable to drag himself away from her. He needed to hear what she was saying.

She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with emotion. "In the last few days, you've made me laugh. You've made me feel joy, sadness, love, and connection. You've given me the best love making of my life. You brought me to life. I didn't want it. I wanted to stay in my shell, but today with you has been the best day of my life, I'm pretty sure."

He stared at her, barely able to process her words. He'd been an ass. He'd scared her. He'd come clean about what a mess he was. She'd seen the real him on every level, and that had been a
good
day for her? "I don't understand." He knew he sounded like an idiot, but he was absolutely confused about how she could say those things after how he had been.

She smiled, a tender smile full of such warmth that he slid to his knees before her, unable to keep the distance between them anymore. She touched his cheek, a gentle caress that made him want to close his eyes and lean into it. But he didn't. He just waited, not even sure what he was waiting for. He just knew that she had something he needed, something he was desperately craving, even though he had no idea what it was.

Taylor laced her fingers behind his neck, resting her wrists on his shoulders. "Just you," she said softly. "You're enough, just the way you are. If you were different, you wouldn't be what I needed so badly."

He wrapped his fingers around her wrists. "You deserve a man who will be there for you. You want the picket fence and babies. I can't do that—"

She shook her head. "The picket fence dream is long gone," she said, with a conviction that made something in his gut ache.

He didn't want her to give up on that dream. It pissed him off that she could even say it, because he knew how much she craved it in her soul. "Don't say that—"

She pressed a finger to his lips. "I wouldn't trust a picket fence even if it came knocking at my door. The reason I can relax with you is because that life is off the table. I needed you, just you, to bring me back to life. I see your greatness, Zane, and maybe it's because of your refusal to see it in yourself that I see it so clearly. Maybe it's because I need to see someone worth believing in, because I haven't had a lot of people in my life to believe in."

He swore under his breath. A part of him wanted to stand up and announce that he'd never, ever let her down, that he could be the guy that she could believe in, but there was a dead kid who would prove that was a lie. "Don't believe in me." He hated to say the words. If there was one person on the planet that he'd want to be worthy of, it was Taylor. He didn't want to drive her away, even though he knew he had to.

"You know what I think?" she asked, ignoring his orders, much to his selfish relief.

"What?"

"I think you should take your portion of the ranch, and create a place for kids to come and learn about horses, the way you did. Brad didn't want to play basketball or use computers, but maybe horses would have reached him, the way they did you."

For a split second, he stared at her, shocked by the idea. A part of him ignited with fire at the idea...and then he shook his head. "That would require me to commit to them. I can't do that. I don't know how to stay in one place."

She cocked her head. "That's a bunch of crap, Zane. You know it. You're just scared, but you know what? You're a bull rider. You, of anyone, should know how to overcome fear."

"It's not fear. It's reality. I know how much it sucks when someone lets you down, and I know myself well enough to know that I'll screw up eventually."

"Of course you will. Everyone does. That's okay."

"No, it's not. Not when people are counting on you." He sighed and ran his hand through her hair. "You're such an idealist," he said softly. "How do you see so much good in the world?"

"I don't. You made me."

He saw the truth in her eyes, and something inside him shifted. Was it really possible that he'd done something decent in his life, something that mattered? Because if he'd made a difference to Taylor, then, yeah, that was worth doing. He slipped his hand into her hair and kissed her, his lips gliding over her softer ones.

She responded instantly, telling him without words that she wasn't mad, that she didn't judge him. She truly accepted him, and wanted nothing from him except whatever it was he felt like giving her. A part of him didn't like that, because he wanted her to demand the world from him and anyone she trusted, but at the same time, it was a tremendous relief, the knowledge that he didn't have to be more than he was.

He cradled her face, kissing her more deeply, needing the connection with her. He loved the taste of her mouth, the feel of her lips, and the softness of her skin. He could lose himself forever in her and never want to go back to the world he inhabited.

She made a small sound of pleasure, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her against him, using his weight to keep their balance so they didn't tumble off the rock. They were exposed to the world in all directions, perched on their pedestal, but he didn't care. He just wanted her.

In the distance, he heard her phone ring, and she tensed slightly in his arms. "Work?" he asked between kisses.

"Yes. That's the ring I have for my boss."

"He gets his own ringtone?" Damn. He wanted her to assign a ringtone to him. The phone rang again, and he felt her attention wander toward it.

No. This was
his
moment with her. No one else got to intrude.

Zane angled his head, deepening the kiss, dragging her attention back to him. When she sighed and wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck, he felt a primal sense of satisfaction. He knew how much her work meant to her, and she'd chosen him. He didn't want her to invest in him, but at the same time, he wanted her to choose him, give him his own ringtone, and park herself in his life and never leave—

His phone rang next, echoing across the parched earth from where he had it stashed in his bike.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"I don't know. Everyone gets the same ringtone on my phone." He caught her mouth in a kiss again, whispering against her lips. "The only person I want to talk to is right here, so I'm not answering."