Red-Hot Texas Nights (27 page)

Meanwhile, the clock was ticking.

All the more reason she needed him inside of her and her wrapped around him and an orgasm. A major, mind-blowing orgasm during the actual deed. The preliminary stuff … It was working her up too much and she needed to work off some steam. To shed her anxiety.

Her worry.

Because Tyler would put his brother on a bus on Monday—in exactly four days—and then his very reason for being in Rebel would be gone, headed to College Station and the rest of his life.

And she would go back to being alone.

Lonely.

Real sex.

That was all she needed to relieve the tension in her shoulders and ease the anxiety knotting her stomach. She held tight to the truth as he ended the heavy-duty petting session that had started the minute she'd arrived on his doorstep late Thursday night, after a long day at the bakery and a phone call from Sheriff DeMassi telling her he wanted yet another look at her grandpa's room.

All the more reason she should have headed home to get a good night's sleep before he came calling first thing in the morning to pick through all the boxes yet again.

But Brandy wanted more. She wanted to see Tyler, to touch him, to prove to herself that he was still real and here and that he did, indeed, want her as much as she wanted him, and so she'd headed to the rodeo arena.

And straight into his bed.

For about fifteen minutes, she felt convinced her dry spell was about to end. But then he pulled away, kissed her one last time with enough passion to make her hormones literally cry, and rolled over to go to sleep.

Sleep.

Seriously?

She tossed and turned and did everything she could to keep him up, but then he slid an arm around her and pulled her back flush against his body. Her hopes soared one last time, but then she heard the deep snore directly in her ear.

“You can't be serious?” she muttered, barely resisting the urge to pinch the hell out of his arm.

But the solid muscle wrapped around her did feel good and she found herself relaxing a little. Enough to stop contemplating revenge plots and actually close her eyes for a few moments.

It
had
been a long day and this was sort of nice, too.

Not that she was falling sleep.

She had an early morning with the sheriff, then she had an elaborate wedding cake to finish up at the bakery, delivery at noon. She didn't need this tonight.

No relaxing. No sleep.
No
.

 

CHAPTER 35

Brandy fell asleep.

The truth sank in several hours later when her eyes finally popped open and she realized that it was almost five o'clock in the morning.

She'd fallen hard and fast, but he hadn't.

Her gaze went to the empty stretch of sheets beside her. Obviously he'd been the one to beat a hasty retreat this time and now she was all by her lonesome.

All the better.

She needed to leave anyhow.

She certainly wasn't going to lie there and wonder where in the world he'd run off to at five o'clock in the morning. Probably some early-morning training session. Or some powwow with his brother. Or maybe he was out helping Duff with something.

Not that she cared.

She rolled onto her right side and punched the pillow a few more times before snuggling back down. There. She was going to close her eyes and she wasn't going to remember the happiness in his eyes when he'd opened the door to her. As if she'd just turned on the light after a long, dark night.

As if.

She sat up and climbed out of the bed. A few steps and she managed to retrieve her clothes. She pulled on everything and gathered up her purse.

“Can't sleep?” The deep, husky timbre met her the minute she stepped outside the door and started down the stairs toward the dark rodeo arena.

She found Tyler standing in the shadows at the bottom. The sight of him wearing nothing but a pair of snug, faded jeans stalled her heart for a long moment. Soft denim molded to his lean hips and strong thighs, and cupped his crotch.

He had the hard, well-defined physique of a rough-and-tough bull rider. Broad shoulders. Muscular arms. Dark hair sprinkled his chest from nipple to nipple before narrowing into a thin line that bisected his six-pack abs and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. Her gaze riveted on the hard bulge beneath his zipper for several fast, furious heartbeats before shifting north.

“Hungry?” he asked.

She swallowed. “You have no idea.”

“Me, too.” He glanced past her at the stairwell leading to the apartment. “I was thinking I could grab a shirt and we could go for pancakes or something.”

The mention of the word made her stomach grumble and he grinned.

“The diner is already open if you want some.” She didn't miss the heat that simmered in the aqua depths of his eyes, which made her all the more confused as to why he'd stopped before the main event last night.

He obviously wanted her.

She could see it.

Feel it.

But then his gaze darkened and he stiffened, as if he'd just remembered some all-important fact.

“Just give me a few minutes.” He moved past her, up the stairs, and into the apartment while she stood there, her heart aching for something she couldn't quite name.

Pancakes. Sex.
Love
. Luckily, he hauled open the door at that moment, a shirt stretched tight over his broad shoulders, and she didn't have to think too hard about that last thought. Instead, her stomach grumbled again, helping her to hit rewind until the only thing on her brain was scarfing down some breakfast.

“Let's go.” He took her hand and she followed him to his truck.

Half an hour later, they were seated across from each other at the diner, a stack of pancakes between them.

The first breakfast of many over the next few days as Monday loomed ahead of her like a black cloud.

*   *   *

“Looks like we're early,” Tyler said as he pulled the truck to a stop outside the bus station early Monday morning and noted the empty seats inside. He glanced at his watch. “Looks like we've got an extra half hour.” He eyed his brother. “You hungry?”

Cooper shook his head and stared at the window.

“Thirsty?”

Another shake and his brother caught his stare. “I'm still not sure about this.”

“About what? Making something of yourself? That's the one thing you should be one hundred percent sure of. You can do this, Cooper. I know you can. It won't be easy, but nothing worthwhile ever is.”

Not bull riding.

Or falling in love.

The last thought struck and Brandy's image danced in his head. But he didn't see her stretched out on the bed in front of him. Not this time. Instead, he saw her sitting in the car that first night, her hands sticky with chocolate shake, a smile curving her full lips. And again at the diner, her mouth stuffed with pancakes, syrup dribbling down her chin. She was as beautiful out of bed as she was in it.

Breathtaking.

“You earned the scholarship. College is going to be a piece of cake.”

“But what if it's not? What if I wind up right back here?”

And there it was. The fear that haunted his brother.

The same fear that haunted Tyler himself.

The notion that he would bust his ass in Cheyenne, that he would break an arm or a leg and wind up stuck back in Rebel, holed up in the two-bit trailer that held so many bad memories.

He was terrified to wind up back here, but he was even more afraid not to leave in the first place. To at least try.

To never know if maybe, just maybe he might have been something.

“So what if you do go off to college and fail? What if you wind up right back here? You're no worse off than if you say to hell with it right now and just stay. At least if you go, there's a chance at more. But there's no chance if you don't get on that bus, little brother. No chance in hell.”

“You really think I can do this?”

“I know you can, but even if you don't, you're still my brother and I'll always love you.”

Just as he would still love Brandy whether she loved him back or not.

The truth vibrated through him. Yep, he loved her, all right. Not that it changed anything. He was still going. She was still staying.

That's the way it had to be.

He wanted her to be happy, and if that meant her staying here, then he would let her when the time came.

He just wanted to know how she felt before then. To at least feel it for a little while.

Until Tyler packed his bags and left Rebel, Texas, for the last time.

Because no way was he coming back this time.

“You can do this,” he said again. “I know you can and so does she.” He motioned to the petite brunette sitting off to the side in the bus station, a small suitcase next to her. Erin stared around, her gaze searching and finding Cooper in that next instant. A smile touched her face and just like that, Cooper didn't look quite as scared.

“She chewed me a new one last night when I told her I still hadn't made up my mind.”

“Because she knows how important this is.”

“That, and she doesn't want to do it alone.”

“So go and play the hero. Help her out. You can't let her go off all by herself.”

“We did promise each other we would do this together.”

“A man's only as good as his word.”

Cooper nodded and gathered up his duffel. “You're right.” He reached for the door handle. “I still might fall on my ass.”

“It's okay if you do,” Tyler told him and he realized in that instant, that it was. If Cooper failed miserably, Erin would still care about him.

And if Tyler himself failed?

Brandy would still care.

At least he thought so. But there was only one way to be sure.

 

CHAPTER 36

They were three weeks shy of the wedding and Callie still couldn't make up her mind.

Brandy fought down the urge to scream and took off the powder-blue dress before stuffing it back onto the hanger and reaching for the hot-pink number sitting nearby.

Her twenty-ninth dress.

Seriously.

She slipped it on and tugged the bodice up over her breasts but it wasn't about to fit. Not when the dress was made to fit a twig with zero figure.

She was just about to shove it back down when she heard the deep, husky voice.

“Not bad.”

Excitement rushed through her for several fast and furious heartbeats before two all-important facts registered.

First, she wasn't doing fast and furious with Tyler McCall. Not anymore. Not since fast and furious led to long and slow and, well, she couldn't go there with him any more. She wouldn't.

That's why he'd spent Sunday night alone while she'd walked the floors at home all by herself.

Actually, she hadn't walked so much as she'd moved. All of the boxes from her grandpa's room out onto the front porch. With the exception of the one box containing a few pairs of shoes, James Harlin's grandmother's old Bible, and three belts that Sheriff DeMassi had confiscated on Saturday morning. The rest Brandy had transferred to the front porch to wait for the church van to pick up the donation.

She'd finally decided on the church when she'd come to realize that it really didn't matter which one she picked, just as it didn't matter if her grandfather had really and truly loved her—or not. It was something she might never know and she had to be okay with that.

She was, she told herself for the countless time. So what if he hadn't given her the time of day? He'd eaten a cookie or two in his time, so she knew he'd at least noticed her.

And that would have to do. She accepted it, just as Tyler had been forced to accept that their booty calls were officially a thing of the past.

She blinked, praying that he would disappear. He wasn't real. This was just a figment of her imagination. Another fantasy to add to the long list that had haunted her each night as she waited for Tyler to ride out of town and leave her like he always did.

He didn't disappear.

The curtains swished closed behind him and he simply stood there. He looked so tall, dark, and delicious in his white button-down, his shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal tanned forearms, his faded Wranglers worn and snug in all the right places. He'd left his hat behind and so there was nothing except a thick fringe of black lashes shadowing the intense aqua of his gaze.

He eyed her, his attention sweeping from her head to her toes and back up again.

Her heart thundered and goose bumps chased up and down her bare arms. Bare, as in naked. She was naked in front of him. Again.

When she'd vowed to keep her clothes on.

Hello? You're wearing underwear. Granted, it's a pair of skimpy bikini briefs, but still.

The last thought killed some of the panic she was feeling and she drew a deep, calming breath. She wasn't completely nude, and she certainly wasn't going to forget everything she'd worked so hard for. She wasn't giving up the bakery and he wasn't giving up his career, and so they were at a standstill.

On opposite sides of the spectrum.

Hopeless.

She reached for the straps on the dress and pulled it up, eager to cover up as much as possible.

“You look good in that,” he said as he took a step toward her.

“It doesn't fit,” she responded. “It's too small.”

“That's why I like it.” He took another step.

“I can't go prancing around in front of everyone like this.”

“Not everyone. Just me.” The deep, husky words slid into her ears and thrummed the length of her spine. He stood even closer now, his body so hard and warm and tempting in the frigid air-conditioning of the dressing room.

He stepped up behind her, his chest kissing her shoulder blades.

The scent of him surrounded her and his hard warmth teased her shoulder blades. When she felt his large, callused fingers at her waist, her own grasp went limp. The straps of the dress slid from her desperate grip. Her head snapped up and her gaze collided with his in the mirror.