Cody (11 page)

She typed in a quick
Great!
and hit Send.

What? It was a marriage proposal, for Pete’s sake. She wasn’t going to say yes via e-mail.

That’s what she told herself as she turned back to work on the schedule for tomorrow’s activities.

She just wasn’t one hundred percent sure she still believed it.

T
HE SOUND OF KNOCKING POUNDED
through the blackness that engulfed Cody. He pushed his eyes open and forced himself to his feet. His muscles felt heavy, tired. He knew it wasn’t even noon before he glanced at the clock. Sun peeked around the edges of the blinds and sucked at his strength, but he made it to the door anyway.

“Yeah?”

“It’s Eldin, Mr. Boyd. Eldin Atkins. Remember me from check-in? Can
I
talk to you for a second?”

Cody threw the lock on the door and pulled it open a half-inch. Light spilled through the opening and he shrank back into the safety of the shadows.
A
split second later, Eldin leaned closer and peered into the inch-wide space, effectively blocking the rays.

“Just thought I’d let you know that there was someone here looking for you last night. Tall. Dark hair. Smart mouth. Said he was a reporter for some rodeo magazine.
I
think his name was Lenny—”

“Benny?” Cody stiffened. “Benny James?”

“That’s it.”

Shit.

Obviously James hadn’t bought the story Cody had fed him about passing through town. He’d followed him here.

Shit. Shit.
Shit.

“Anyhow, I just wanted to let you know that I took care of everything for you. I told him if he was looking for the infamous Cody Boyd, he was looking in the wrong place ’cause we don’t got no famous rodeo cowboys staying here in the VIP suite. And we sure as hell don’t have any famous rodeo cowboys here that don’t want to be disturbed.”

“I appreciate that.”

“My pleasure. Just so’s you know, I’ve got my lawn chair right here just to make sure he don’t pull no funny business and try to get past me.”

“I really appreciate that, Eldin, but don’t you think it might look a little bit suspicious? You sitting in front of the VIP door with a shotgun?”

“I didn’t really think about that. Maybe I’ll skedaddle down a few doors and throw him off the track.”

“Or you could head back to the lobby and play it cool like nothing is going on. Then he might be inclined to think I’m staying at one of the motels out on the interstate.”

“I
could
monitor things from inside with my binoculars.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“If I see any funny business, I can get on the horn. I’ve got Sheriff Keller’s number pre-programmed in my cell. One touch and this place’ll be crawling with cops.”

Cody seriously doubted a town the size of Skull Creek had more than two or three full-time officers, so
crawling
was definite overkill. But he wasn’t going to rain on Eldin’s parade. The man was on a roll.

“’Cause no guest of mine is gonna be bothered by no annoying reporters. You came here ’cause you need your peace and quiet. The least I can do is guaran-damn-tee that ain’t nobody gonna bother you. ’Sides, I told you that I’m used to famous celebrities here. We get ’em all the time here. Speaking of famous celebrities, you okay on clean towels? ’Cause I’d be happy to bring you extra—”

“Fine,” Cody cut in. “I’m doing just fine.”

“How about ice? I’d be happy to head over to the ice machine and—”

“I’m good on ice, too, buddy.”

“Clean sheets?”

“Winona changed them yesterday.”

“A new Bible?”

“Still got one right here in the top drawer. Listen, thanks a lot for all you’re doing. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” Eldin smiled and turned to fold up his lawn chair.

Cody shut and locked the door and stumbled back to the bed. Collapsing on the mattress, he let his eyes close and did his damnedest not to think about Benny James.

So what if the man had followed him here? He’d been following him forever and Cody had managed to stay one step ahead. He would do the same now. He simply had to watch his back and keep a low profile for the next four days until Sawyer returned.

And bumping and grinding on the fifty-yard line of the local stadium was obviously the way to do it.

His thoughts shifted to Miranda and his nostrils flared. The sticky sweet smell of cinnamon teased his senses and the clatter of dice echoed in his ears. She was
supervising the morning activities at the senior center, going about her normal routine, determined to distract herself and pretend like this was any other Monday.

It wasn’t.

Anticipation rippled through her, making her hands tremble and her knees weak. The memories from the previous night followed her, sneaking into her conscious thoughts whenever she wasn’t looking and stirring her lust.

He glanced down at the erection tenting the sheets. He knew the feeling.

He rolled onto his side and tried to think about something else. About Benny James and the danger he posed should he get even a glimpse of the truth. About the coming confrontation with Garret Sawyer and the need for revenge that ate away inside of him. About the bull he’d pulled for the first round of the season. An ornery bitch named Jolene that would surely give him the ride of his afterlife.

Then again, he’d already had that last night.

The thought struck, teasing his senses and turning his attention to the sounds and smells and feelings that surrounded him.

The sensations intensified as the hours wore on. An unbelievable fact because daylight never failed to zap his strength and dull his senses.

But while his muscles lay heavy and catatonic, his brain was fully tuned.

He’d felt her since that morning. Her excitement at arriving at the senior center to find a cup of hot coffee waiting for her courtesy of one of the residents. Her disappointment
when some little old lady had bad-mouthed her. Her angst over whether or not to serve mini pizzas or the ever-popular pigs-in-a-blanket. Her displeasure when she’d opened her e-mail.

He stiffened and jealousy bolted through him, as strong and resilient as when he’d first felt it that morning. Friggin’ crazy, he knew. But it was there.

As if he cared that she was so determined to ruin the rest of her life and marry someone else. She wouldn’t be happy. A truth that didn’t matter one way or another to him.

Yeah, right. And all you need is a little SPF and you’ll be fine outdoors.

All right, so he did care. He finally admitted that to himself as the day wore on and the feelings intensified.

Not that he was going to do anything about it. He was in Skull Creek for one reason only—to kill Garret Sawyer the way he should have done that tragic night, rid himself of the damned what-ifs and find a little peace of mind.

He damned sure wasn’t here because of a woman. And he double damned sure wasn’t staying because of one. Sure, it might sound good just thinking about it. Maybe buying a few acres and building a house and planting some roots. But he knew from personal experience that it would lose its appeal like everything else. That’s why he kept moving.

That’s where he and his dad had been different.

His father had slowed down and let a woman fall in love with him, and then he’d broken her heart and abandoned his boys.

Cody wasn’t making that mistake. He might not be able to help the restlessness, but he could sure as hell keep from hurting someone else.

He could walk away.

He would.

But until then he had a touchdown to score.

M
IRANDA SAT IN THE FRONT ROW
of the bleachers at Skull Creek High football stadium and tried to calm the frantic beat of her heart. At the rate she was going, she’d die of a heart attack before he even arrived.

She drew a steady breath, willed her nerves to chill and concentrated on her surroundings. The only light came from the full moon that hung in an otherwise pitch black sky. The white field paint gleamed in the celestial light, marking the various yard lines. Her gaze riveted on the fifty and she remembered the first time she’d seen it written on the boy’s bathroom wall.

Before the embarrassment and mortification, she’d felt the tiniest, most illicit thrill.
A
reaction she’d buried and forgotten until now.

Now, the sensation spiraled through her, prickling her skin and pebbling her nipples and—

“Penny for your thoughts.” His deep voice drew her attention. Her head snapped to the left and she found him sitting beside her just a few inches away.

He wore a black Stetson tipped low over his forehead so that it shrouded the upper half of his face and made him seem even more dark and dangerous and sexy.
A
black Ride ’Em Cowboy T-shirt clung to his broad chest and accented his heavily muscled biceps. Faded jeans
hugged his muscular thighs, the frayed ends bunched just above a pair of worn black boots.

He grinned, the expression a slash of white in the darkness. “Thinking about old times?”

“Hardly.” She swallowed against her suddenly dry throat. “I was more the geeky math club type.” She grinned as she remembered the small group of friends she’d made back then. They’d been the only people who hadn’t judged her. But then she’d had every algebraic equation memorized and so they’d needed her for the academic decathlon. “I went to exactly one football game my entire life and I left at half time.”

He slid closer until barely an inch separated them. “Not much of a football fan?”

“I’m actually a huge Cowboys fan. I coordinate a game trip to Dallas every year. The residents love it.” She shook her head. “My lack of team spirit back in high school had nothing to do with the game.” She wasn’t sure why she told him. With his vampire senses, he undoubtedly knew. At the same time, he looked so interested, that she couldn’t help herself. “It was freshman year. First scrimmage. Trisha Rhinehart accused me of flirting with her boyfriend. He dropped his wallet after paying for popcorn at the concession stand. I was standing behind him in line, so I picked it up and handed it back to him. Big mistake. When Trisha came out of the restroom and saw us talking, she flipped. She said I was no better than my white trash mother and sisters. I left. That was my first and last time here.”

“She sounds really insecure.”

“I don’t blame her.” She shrugged. “Matt was always cheating on her.”

“But not with you.”

She shook her head. “No, but there was no way for Trisha to know that. I don’t blame her for jumping to conclusions. My mother was the town whore before she died, and my sisters are still following in her footsteps.”

“You’re not your sisters.”

Yeah, right.

His thigh brushed hers and heat swept from her toes to the top of her head. She was just as lusty. Just as wanton. She just controlled it and they didn’t.

“What about you?” she heard herself blurt despite her vow not to ask him any questions. She needed something—anything—to fill the tense silence and distract herself from the erotic urges pushing and pulling inside of her, threatening her sanity and her precious control.

Forget waiting until the fifty-yard line. She saw herself peeling off her clothes and straddling his lap and—

“Any sisters?” she rushed on. Her hands trembled and her lips quivered. “Brothers?”

He stiffened and she knew she’d hit on a subject he’d rather not talk about. “No sisters,” he finally said after a long moment, “but I do have three older brothers. Brent, Travis and Colton.”

“Do they live in Texas?”

He shrugged. “I can’t say as I know. We see each other once a year, but we don’t talk much.”

“Bad blood?”

“Something like that.”

“Must be some family reunion.”

He grinned and the tension in his body eased just a fraction. “It’s not that kind of reunion. Every year on the anniversary of his turning, a vampire must return to the actual spot where he took his last breath as a man. We were all turned at our family’s ranch, so we go home every year.” He stared off into the distance. “But it isn’t much of a home anymore. The entire place fell into ruin after my family was killed. All of the buildings were destroyed by fire. Nothing was ever rebuilt. It’s just a grassy stretch of pasture now.” He stared out at the football field. “When I see it, it’s hard to believe that it was once one of the biggest spreads in West Texas.”

Don’t do it. Don’t ask.
“What happened?” The words tumbled past her lips anyway. There was just something about the frown pinching his brow that made her want to ask. To listen.

A welcome urge compared to the lustful ones warring with her sanity, threatening her precious control.

“My brothers and I were on our way back after the war. We arrived to find the ranch blazing and everyone dead or nearly so. I found my mother a few seconds before she took her last breath.” Pain drew his mouth tight.

A feeling she was all too familiar with.

“It’s terrible to see anyone die.”

He nodded. “The rest of the family—my sister-in-law, my ten-year-old nephew—they were both killed. The
ranch hands. Our foreman. Most of our horses were caught in the fire, too. There wasn’t a thing left standing.”

“What about your father?”

He stiffened. “He was never in the picture. He left us a long time ago. The wanderlust, my ma used to call it, but she was just making excuses for him. He wasn’t very dependable.”

“My father wasn’t in the picture either. My sisters and I all have different dads. I’ve never even met mine.”

“I don’t waste much time wishing he’d been around, but I do wish he’d been there that night. Maybe things would have been different.”

“I’m really sorry for your loss. It must have been terrible for you.”

“You can’t imagine.”

But she could. She could see the horrific images that haunted his thoughts and she could feel his pain.

And her own.

“I found my mother after she’d taken a handful of pills,” she heard herself say. “I called 911, but it was too late. By the time they got there, she was dead.” She could still hear the clatter of the empty pill bottle as it hit the linoleum, the shrill whine of the sirens, then the silence once the police had cleared out and she’d sat there with a social worker waiting for her older sisters.

“Why she’d do it?”

“She fell for this guy, but he didn’t fall for her. He was a truck driver. Turns out he had a wife in Houston and four kids. My mother couldn’t take the rejection and so she gave up. She was always giving up. When she couldn’t make ends meet, she’d head for the nearest bar
and drink away her troubles. Then she’d head home with some man for a few more hours of distraction. But the problems were always waiting for her the next day.”
We were waiting.