Slow Burn: A Colorado High Country Novel (7 page)

He pulled his shirt away from his chest. “I’d be up for that, but I need a shower.”

“I’ve got lots of extra towels in my suite, and there are unopened bars of soap and little bottles of shampoo in the bathroom. I’m sure Bob and Kendra wouldn’t mind if you took a shower there, considering the circumstances.”

“You sure?”

She nodded. “We’ve only got until Friday to finish this.”

“Okay, then.”

* * *

V
ic stood
in the middle of her bedroom, her gaze on the bathroom door. For the first time in her life, she was jealous of a bar of soap. Eric was in there, completely naked, washing that amazing body of his without her.

You are losing your mind.

She crossed her arms over her chest, as if that could somehow ward off the unwanted emotions inside her—desire, sexual hunger, loneliness. She could
not
get involved with him. She couldn’t hook up with a man who’d once hit on her best friend and who made love with women without actually loving them.

Oh, but it would be
so
worth it.

That’s what she’d thought when she’d met Stewart. She’d been wrong, and she’d paid for it with months of grief, fear, and humiliation. The sex hadn’t even been satisfying. The whole nightmare had proved to her that her man-picker was broken. Like a compass that didn’t point north, hers had led her to choose a man who had tried to destroy her.

Eric isn’t Stewart.

No, he wasn’t. He was nothing like Stewart. Stewart was interested only in himself, while Eric took care of his entire community. Images from the day drifted through her mind. Eric giving Hank a T-shirt. Eric carrying her back to his truck. Eric handing her ibuprofen, taking her pulse.

No, he was nothing like Stewart, but Eric’s own mother had admitted people thought he was a bit of a playboy. Besides, Vic had made herself a promise.

She closed her eyes and let herself imagine what it would be like to kiss him, his hard body pressed up against hers, his mouth coming down hot and hard on hers, his tongue teasing hers. Maybe he would cup her breast, tease her nipple with his thumb.

Belly flutters. An ache between her thighs. Wetness.

God, she wanted him.

But could she handle it?

There’d been a time—oh, say, yesterday—when she would have sworn she’d never be able to let down her guard and trust a man with her body again. Now here she was staring at a closed bathroom door and fantasizing about a man she barely knew.

You know enough. You’ve seen what kind of a man he is.

Inside the bathroom, the shower stopped.

What was she doing here? If he opened the door …

Jolted from her fantasy, she hurried out of the room.

* * *

“
I
looked
through all the clips last night and made some obvious edits. Then I organized the photos into folders so that we can find what we’re looking for quickly.” She ran the cursor over the list of folders. “Lexi. Lexi with her parents. Lexi and Austin together. Austin by himself. Those historical shots of the inn. Scenery.”

“Aren’t you the organized one?” He leaned for a closer look, his damp hair combed into place, the clean scent of his skin like a drug. “What’s on the timeline?”

Keep your mind on the job.

“I haven’t made any changes there. I cut out dead space, all those spots where your mom had to stop because of the guy revving his engine, and that segment where you dropped the camera onto the floor.”

“Oh, that.” He ran a hand over his jaw with its day’s growth of stubble. “Sorry. Steven Spielberg I am not.”

“I think you did a great job.” She wasn’t just saying that. “I got pretty choked up watching these last night.”

“Yeah?” That seemed to please him. “You think Lexi will like them?”

“I don’t think there will be a dry eye in the room.”

“What do we do now?”

“Now you come up with a narrative.”

“A narrative? Okay. Great.” It was evident from the confusion on his face that he didn’t understand. “How do we do that?”

“You want the video to tell a story so the viewer can take a journey with you.” She clicked on a document file. “I made a list of all the interviews and jotted down some keywords for each interview. So what you need to do is decide how you want to order the them—which clip goes first, which goes second and so on.”

His brows drew together, and he blew out a breath. “I was just going to put them all together. I hadn’t thought about it as a story. It’s been so long since I’ve listened to most of these. Do you have any ideas?”

She liked seeing him like this—a fish out of water, uncertain of himself, needing help rather than giving it. “I think we should start with your mother. She talked about Lexi’s mom finding out she was pregnant.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “That’s good.”

They got to work, selecting portions of interviews and dragging them onto the timeline. Once he’d grasped the concept of narrative, Eric had no trouble deciding which segment should come next. Vic knew all the keyboard shortcuts, so she did the actual pushing of buttons. After about an hour, they had cobbled together a rough assembly of clips.

“Should we add the photos now?”

“No.” Vic rubbed the ache in her neck. “I think we should make sure we’re done editing the video first.”

“Getting tired?”

“My muscles are sore from yesterday.”

“Let me.” He moved his chair so that he sat behind her now, his strong hands replacing hers. “Just relax.”

“Ow! Oh!
Ahhh
.”

He chuckled. “Better?”

“Yes.” What he was doing felt
so
good, the skilled motions of his hands chasing away the stiffness in her neck and shoulders. “You’re really good at this.”

His voice was deep, his words slow, when he answered. “Becoming a paramedic means studying a lot of human anatomy.”

Human anatomy? Good grief!

She should stop him before this went in the wrong direction. Yes, she should, but she couldn’t because it was already too late.

Oh, yes.

Warmth licked through her blood, desire that had been on a slow burn since yesterday kindling into something more. She couldn’t remember being so affected by a man’s simple touch. It wasn’t just the fact he was touching her; it was the fact that
he
was touching her. Electricity made her tingle everywhere his skin made contact with hers, the heat sending little shivers down her spine. “
Mmm
.”

Had she just moaned aloud?

His hands slowed, his touch sensual now, callused fingers curling at her nape, caressing her cheek. Then he shifted, his lips pressing against her temple, his breath hot against her skin. “God, Victoria.”

She turned her head to the side, lifted her chin. “Kiss me.”

E
ric heard
her whispered invitation and damned if he could resist. He slid his fingers into her hair, angled her head to give him better access, then brushed his lips over hers. The jolt of heat took him by surprise, shot straight to his cock. “
Victoria
.”

He closed his mouth over hers, wanting more, but this was no good. Sitting behind her, he couldn’t really kiss her, not the way she deserved to be kissed.

He turned her chair, then, in a single motion, scooped her into his arms and stood.

“
Oh!
” She gave a little gasp, but there was no mistaking the thrill in her brown eyes as he carried her toward the sofa, her pupils wide and dark.

He hadn’t gone two steps when she caught his face between her palms and kissed him. His eyes closed, and his feet stilled, his awareness shifting to the hot feel of her mouth on his, the pressure of her lips, the sharp edges of her teeth as they nipped his bottom lip, the taste of her tongue as it searched for his.

Jesus!

As much as he’d love to stand here holding her all day, they weren’t going to get very far like this. He opened his eyes and staggered forward, the beautiful woman in his arms refusing to break the kiss, her fingers sliding into his hair, holding his mouth right where she wanted it. He struck his shin on the coffee table, adjusted his trajectory, stopping when his knees bumped the sofa. He lowered her to the soft cushions and stretched himself out above her.

If touching her had felt electric, full-body contact nearly blew his mind, the heat between them threatening to make him spontaneously combust. He tore control of the kiss from her, felt her yield, a sound halfway between a sigh and a moan catching in her throat as he plundered her mouth.

God, she tasted good.

She turned her throat to the side, exposing sensitive skin. He took what she offered, licking and kissing her just beneath her ear, breathing in the scent of her, savoring the rapid thrum of her pulse beneath his lips. She shivered, her hands sliding beneath his T-shirt to caress his abs and pecs, the feel of him seeming to turn her on. It wasn’t hurting him. That much was sure.

But two could play at this game.

He tore his lips from her skin, slid the spaghetti straps off her shoulders, and tugged down her dress, exposing a low-cut bra of blue satin and the sweet, creamy swells of her breasts. Willing himself not to rush, he kissed the line where satin met skin before releasing the center clasp, hunger for her pounding in his chest like a heartbeat.

She watched him through eyes gone black as he pushed the satin aside to reveal two beautiful natural breasts, their dark tips already puckered.

He knew what she expected him to do, so he didn’t do it, but kissed, licked, and nipped the skin of her breasts, moving closer to her nipples without touching them, letting her anticipation build. She whimpered in frustration, her nipples drawing tighter. Still, he made her wait, pressing kisses against her breastbone, running his tongue in circles around those dark crests. Then, when he couldn’t take it any longer, he closed his mouth over one pebbled tip and sucked.

“
Eric
.” She moaned his name, one of her legs wrapping around his waist, the other pinned against the cushions beneath his.

His cock ached to be inside her, but he didn’t want to stop, not when she was enjoying this as much as she was. Her breath came in pants now, her hips rising as if to dry fuck him from below.

She wanted a little friction? He had just the thing for that.

He adjusted his weight and pressed his erection right where she needed it most, grinding himself against her. Her response was immediate, her eyes drifting shut, her hands coming to rest against his biceps. The motion was so like fucking that, yeah, it was arousing in a my-dick-is-going-to-bust-through-these-jeans sort of way. It wasn’t enough to make him come, but it seemed to be taking her where she needed to go. That was good enough for him.

She met the motions of his hips with little thrusts of her own, the two of them completely synched as if they’d been doing this for years. Her nails bit into his skin, every muscle in her body tense, her breathing ragged. Oh, she was close, so close.

He lowered his mouth to her breast again, flicked her nipple with his tongue, nipped it with his teeth, then drew it into his mouth once more.

“
Eric.
” Her breath caught, then she arched beneath him, coming with a soft, shuddering sigh.

He stayed with her, kissing her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead, attuned to the tremors still running through her, some thought forming in his mind about carrying her to the bed for—

Fuck.

He didn’t have a condom. He hadn’t planned this and hadn’t brought one with him. He’d never broken his “no sex without a condom” rule, and he wouldn’t start tonight. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Victoria pregnant and facing a bunch of tough choices. Besides, there were a lot of ways they could get each other off without him being inside her.

She opened her eyes, surprise on her face, her lips swollen from kissing him, her breasts still beautifully bare. “I’ve never … not like that.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” He lowered his lips to hers, kissed her nice and slow. “Please tell me there’s a box of condoms in that bathroom.”

“I didn’t see one. I’m not on the pill either, so...” Her gaze fixed on something over his shoulder, and the blood drained from her face, her entire body going stiff. “Stop. I can’t! We can’t ... ”

In a panic, she pushed against his chest, struggling to get out from beneath him.

He levered himself up and away from her and looked over his shoulder, but saw only what he’d expected to see—his computer, paper, a pen. “Honey, what is it? What’s wrong?”

She got to her feet, hurried to the table, and closed his computer, then stood there, shaking, arms wrapped protectively around herself, spaghetti straps still off her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ... I’m so, so sorry.”

It didn’t take training in trauma to know that something had triggered her.

Eric got to his feet, all the things he’d let slip from his mind rushing back at him—Austin’s warning, her conversation with his mother, the fact that she was Lexi’s best friend.

Hawke, you dumbshit.

He walked up behind her, wanting to reassure her but afraid to touch her. “Hey. It’s okay. You have no reason to be sorry.”

She turned to face him, then seemed to realize that her breasts were still exposed.

Before she could react, he fastened the clasp for her, leaving her to adjust all that lush goodness herself. “You can talk to me. You know that, right? Clothes on, hands off. I promise.”

“Thanks.” She tugged up her spaghetti straps, and he could see she was fighting tears. “I think we made a lot of progress tonight. We should probably both get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He bit back all the things he wanted to say to her, all the things he wanted to ask, and just let it go—for now. “Okay. Yeah. Thanks for your help tonight.”

“You’re welcome.” She walked with him to the door. “Good night.”

“Get some sleep.” He paused with one foot in the hallway. “Call me if you need anything, even if it’s the middle of the night. I can be here in two minutes.”

“Thanks, Eric.” She forced a smile onto her face. “You’re a good man.”

As he walked down the stairs, Eric was certain that the last guy who’d gotten his hands on her hadn’t been.

* * *

V
ic closed the door
, moved the safety latch into place, then walked to the sofa, her heart in pieces. She sank into the cushions and let the tears come.

She had messed that up—big time
.
It was her fault. She had started it.

She had
asked
Eric to kiss her, and, oh, God, he had. He’d kissed her like she’d never been kissed in her life, kissed her the way she’d always dreamed of being kissed. First her lips, then her throat, then her breasts…

The man certainly knew what to do with his mouth.

He’d made her feel sexually alive for the first time in so very long, driving her crazy, even making her come. And he hadn’t gotten anything in return.

God, she’d been an idiot.

One moment she’d been basking in the aftermath of a surprise orgasm and thinking up ways to please him, and the next she’d found herself looking at the camera lens of his laptop. She hadn’t meant to push him away. Something inside her had snapped, adrenaline turning her blood to ice in the span of a heartbeat, her mind filling with all of the memories she’d been trying so hard to forget.

A lot of guys would have gotten angry about that. But Eric had done nothing but try to comfort her. He’d even fastened her bra himself.

She owed him an explanation. But, God, what would he think of her when she told him? It shouldn’t matter to her. It’s not like they were a part of each other’s lives. Even so, it bothered her that he might think less of her.

Damn it.

She’d come to Scarlet hoping to get away from the past year. But somehow she’d brought all of it with her.

* * *

H
ow was
she going to face Eric now?

Vic felt mortified about what she’d done last night, and she was going to be spending an entire day in his company.

She pushed the thought aside and slipped into her brand new cowboy boots. The brown leather had a worn look, and there were roses embroidered along the instep and shaft. The moment she’d seen them, she’d wanted them. She walked around the room, getting used to the feel, then took a peek at her reflection and laughed. With her new dark vintage wash jeans, she looked like a cowgirl—well, minus the hat.

Deliberately leaving her phone behind, she slipped the day pack over her shoulder and hurried down the stairs, not wanting to keep everyone waiting. She stepped out into the cool morning air, the scent of pine and the breathtaking view making her forget her worries. Then she saw him.

Eric stood near the end of the driveway near the road, talking with Austin, a cowboy hat on his head.

Seriously? A cowboy hat? Was he trying to slay her? What was next? Cuddling puppies against his shirtless chest?

He looked her way, and she caught the anger on his face the moment before he hid it behind a half smile.

He and Austin weren’t talking. They were arguing about something.

“Good morning.” Lexi waved to her from the driver’s seat of her Lexus convertible, its top down, Britta sitting in the back. “It’s just the five of us. Winona is doing intake on two orphaned bear cubs. Chaska has to work, and Jesse is helping with inventory at the Cave. Austin is driving up with Eric so we can have some girl time.”

Vic glanced over at Eric and Austin and wondered why Lexi was pretending everything was fine. “Okay.”

Both disappointed and relieved that she wouldn’t be riding alone with Eric, she got into Lexi’s car and buckled up.

“Have you ever ridden a horse before?” Britta asked.

Vic nodded. “My dad insisted I take English horseback riding lessons when I was little. I was never good enough to compete, but I did learn to love horses. I’ve never done trail riding, though.”

Lexi waited for Eric to back out in his truck, then drove down to the roundabout and out onto the highway. “You’re going to love the Cimarron.”

“Is it a dude ranch or something?”

That made Britta laugh. “A
dude
ranch? Don’t say that in front of Jack or Nate.”

While she drove, Lexi told her how the Cimarron was a working cattle ranch owned by the West family since the days of World War I. “They also breed champion quarter horses. The ranch sits on some of the most beautiful land in the county.”

Britta leaned forward to be a part of the conversation. “The land is beautiful, but wait till you see their house.”

The more the two of them talked, the more certain Vic became they were exaggerating. The house was incredible, and the views were breathtaking, and Jack West and his family were the kindest people you could ever hope to meet.