When Bruce Met Cyn (9 page)

Mary continued to look out the window a few seconds more, then she turned to Cyn. She was smiling. “For tonight, the horses just need to be fed and watered. In the morning, I can show you how to clean the stalls and lay out new hay.”

Cyn caught her breath. “I have the job?”

“The horses like you, and that's what's most important. They're a good judge of character.” With a laugh, Mary added, “Everything else can be learned.”

Cyn squealed in excitement, but tamped down on her enthusiasm when Mary's cell phone rang. She looked ready to burst as she hugged herself tight and jiggled in place.

Her happiness proved contagious, and Bruce wanted to laugh with her.

Mary fished the phone from her jacket pocket to check the caller ID. “I'm sorry, I need to take this. Look around all you want, move in your things, then come up to the house and we can go over your schedule.”

She turned away while answering the phone and a moment later, the door closed behind her, leaving Bruce alone with Cyn.

Slowly, Cyn turned to face him, so alight with joy that he couldn't help but grin. He winked at her. “Congratulations.”

Her smile spread into a wide grin, then she impulsively threw herself into his arms. Bruce staggered back before gaining his wits and wrapping his arms around her slight, soft frame. Cyn was laughing, squeezing him, her hands on his shoulders, his nape, along his spine.

Her breasts pressed into his chest, her thighs rubbed his, and she was happy. Wonderfully, deliriously happy—for the simplest thing that most people took for granted: a chance to work and make her own way.

From one moment to the next, his body reacted predictably to holding an attractive woman he wanted.

Her laughter was a powerful aphrodisiac, and combined with the feel of her body in his arms, it was enough. More than enough.

Right and wrong didn't play into it. He wanted to lower her to the narrow cot behind them and claim her as his own.

His mind was still fighting that image when Cyn turned her face up to his. Tears of happiness made her pale eyes glassy. The second their gazes met, he was a goner. He cupped her face, relishing the warm softness of her skin, breathing hard with growing need. “Cyn.”

He tried to say her name as a warning, wanting her to shove him away, slap him, elbow him in the chest again. Anything that would shake off the overwhelming need.

She stared at him with confusion, then dawning awareness. Her breath caught, and slowly, very slowly, her thick lashes dropped over her eyes in a sign of permission and acceptance.

That did it.

His control cracked and Bruce took her mouth, soft and damp, her lips opened just enough for his tongue to glide inside.

Oh God, she tasted good and it felt right, so right to touch her this way…

Cyn went perfectly still, her breathing fast but her body immobile. She was pliable in his arms, not fighting him, but not really taking part, either.

His muddled mind couldn't register anything beyond the need for more. He readjusted his hold, aligning her slender body with his muscular one, pulling her closer. Her nipples stiffened, teasing him, wringing a groan from deep in his chest. Oblivion set in, blocking out their surroundings, the impropriety of the moment.

Cyn's hands clenched into his shirtsleeves over his biceps and she gave the softest, most compelling moan he'd ever heard. He realized his hand was fisted around her braid, holding her right where he wanted her, that his tongue was in her mouth and his hips were pressing against hers, and he was instantly appalled.

He pushed back—and Cyn, taken unawares, put too much weight on her injured ankle. She stumbled and would have fallen if Bruce hadn't caught her again.

He held her shoulders and got iron control of himself. His jaw clenched, his lungs labored. He knew, damn it, he
knew
what she'd been through, and still he'd all but attacked her.

Guilt burned like acid in his gut and left his voice raspy. “I'm sorry.”

She lowered her face, hiding her expression from him. With a shaking hand, she touched her mouth.

Her lips were swollen, reddened…

Gripping her shoulders tighter, he gently shook her. “Cyn, talk to me.” He bent to see her face, horrified that he might have frightened or insulted her.

She stared at him, bewildered, maybe a little awed. “I had no idea.”

That whisper-soft voice nearly took him to his knees. He was still so hard he was shaking, and his reply was sharper than he intended. “No idea about
what?”

“Why people enjoyed kissing.”

Her sentiment hit him like a blow.

Her hand lifted and now it was his lips she touched, featherlight and curious. “It was just something that was sometimes required, something a few guys paid for. A way to help get them off.”

Jesus, he couldn't hear this, not right now. Bruce squeezed his eyes shut. “Cyn, don't.”

She stepped away from him and turned her back. She, too, was trembling. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean…”

He jerked her back around to face him. “Don't apologize!”

Shocked, she stared at him, and he wanted to kick his own behind.

“That's not what I meant,” he tried explaining, but she looked completely befuddled, and now ashamed. Bruce released her and ran both hands through his hair. It took an effort, but he moderated both his tone and his emotions. “I'm attracted to you, Cyn.” He laughed at such a grave understatement. “I'm sorry, but it's true. It's not what I'm used to…but that's no excuse. I shouldn't have done that.”

“Kissed me?”

He gave a stiff nod. “Yes.”

“But…I liked it.” And then, “Didn't you?”

God help him. His groan was harsh with self-loathing; her words made him want to kiss her again, longer and deeper this time. Everywhere.

“Yeah, I liked it. Too much.” To be safe, he moved a considerable distance from her. “But I don't want to take advantage of you.”

Incredulous, she laughed at him. “Take advantage of
me?”
She laughed again, more than making her point. “That's hardly possible, all things considered.”

Just that quickly, Bruce was back to standing inches from her, her face held in his hands, his nose almost touching hers. “That's exactly what I'm talking about, Cyn. At the moment, you don't realize how special, how beautiful you are, inside and out. And until you do, until you accept what a lovely, intelligent woman you are, until you see what I see, I don't want to crowd you or confuse the issue.”

One brow lifted in mocking interest. “The issue being…?”

“That you're as good as anyone, as good as you want to be.”

Time seemed to stand still while she weighed his words, and then the cynicism left her and she pressed close again, hugging him in an entirely platonic embrace. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For being a guy I actually like. And let me tell ya,
that's
unusual.” She smiled up at him, kissed his chin, and stepped back. “Let me get my stuff out of your car and you can be on your way.”

He didn't want to be on his way, blast her. He should have been pleased to put the unnerving encounter to rest, but instead, he wished for different circumstances. He wished for a time and a place where he wouldn't have to hold himself back.

He had considered sex over the years; God knew, he was human and he was male. But he'd only thought of it in the abstract, not in such a definite, desperate way. He didn't just want relief, he wanted Cyn. In every way known to man. He didn't only think of coupling with her, he thought of taking her for long, heated hours. He thought of hearing her cry out in a climax, he thought of exploding inside her…

Vivid, burning visuals that now tormented him. He ran a hand through his hair, unsure what to do.

After dismissing sex for years, he now wanted the one woman who was off limits. He could probably make her understand, convince her…

But she'd made her preferences clear and they took precedence over his at the moment. Bruce cleared his throat. “Stay put. Rest, put your feet up. I'll bring your things in.”

“I'm not—”

“Helpless, I know.” God, he couldn't quibble with her right now. He needed a breath of fresh air and a moment away from her. “You're one of the most ingenious people I've ever met, but you still have a sore ankle.”

“Ingenious?”

Turbulent lust turned to irritation. “Do not insult yourself again, Cyn. I mean it.” He waited, but she held herself in wide-eyed silence and finally he nodded. “Your ankle is hurt and you've been on your feet all day. Ignoring it is only going to get you so far, and if you want to be up to working tomorrow, you'll have to take it easy today.”

“Well, don't get in a lather. You want me to sit, I'll sit.” She stomped to the small dinette, dropped down onto a chair, and sent him a smarmy smile.

“Happy?”

Far from it. “Your books will go nicely on that shelf below the microwave.”

She knew exactly what he was doing, but she didn't argue the point. “Instead of cookbooks, I'll have
Famine of the Child's Soul
on display.” She lounged back in a sensual sprawl and grinned. “Guaranteed to ruin most appetites.”

Time, Bruce reminded himself. She needed time, and somehow he'd make sure she got it. Today had been a wonderful start filled with amazing strides. She had a job, a place to stay.

Soon she'd have a new, more rewarding life.

And then, maybe, just maybe, he could quit denying himself.

 

Less than an hour later, Bruce was ready to leave. It hadn't taken near that long for Cyn to unload her meager belongings from her one suitcase, but Bruce hung around while Mary showed her how to feed and water the horses. In the morning, she'd show her how to clean the stalls and spread new hay. Then Cyn would be on her own.

She was excited, exhilarated—but nothing compared to the kiss she'd shared with Bruce. Wow, that had been an eye-opener of epic proportions.

Why the hell hadn't any of her books told her how awesome a kiss could be? After Bruce had pulled away, she'd half expected to melt into a puddle on the loft floor. She'd been kissed, more than she wanted to remember, but never with that effect.

Apparently, she needed to broaden her reading horizons.

Despite Bruce's arguments, she walked him to his car. Every additional second she got to spend with him felt like a gift.

Instead of getting in, he leaned on the door. “Will you call Shay?”

Cyn hated to do that. She wasn't a dummy and she knew Shay would be creating a job for her. It wouldn't be legitimate work, and that's what she craved.

“Just until something else comes along,” Bruce urged, and Cyn knew he'd read her thoughts. That was a little disconcerting, that he could see inside her mind. But at the same time, it showed how attuned he was to her as a person, not just to her body. When she talked, he actually listened. And that was as different as his kiss had been.

Maybe the job with Shay wouldn't be such a bad thing. It'd give her a chance to spend more time with Bruce and she was just selfish enough, just hungry enough, to grab the opportunity with both hands. “You're sure you're okay with that?”

He didn't smile. He hadn't smiled since kissing her. “Why wouldn't I be?”

He was the strangest man—placid one moment, hot the next, always concerned yet often teasing. “Shay said we'd be hanging around the church.”

He nodded. “Working, helping out.”

“Whatever. I wasn't sure how you'd really feel about that. You don't have to be nice, you know. If I'd make anyone uncomfortable—given my background and all—then I wouldn't want to be there.” She didn't want to do anything to cause him trouble or sully his good reputation.

Bruce's dark eyes narrowed. He tried to hide his annoyance while tugging playfully on the end of her braid. “On the contrary. I'd enjoy seeing you.”

Her heart seemed to leap right from her chest. But was he just being nice? He said he'd worked with hookers. Was he only trying to help her get her life together?

Her skeptical look was met with a frown. Fair hair fell over his brow as he shook his head. “So doubting. I don't lie, Cyn—remember that, okay?”

“Sure.” She'd tell him whatever he wanted to hear, just to keep him around a bit longer.

He looked toward the heavens, as if unconvinced. “You'll enjoying working with Shay. And it'll give you a chance to get to know some of the other town folks better.” He pulled out his cell phone and punched in Shay's number. “Talk to her now. I know Shay—she'll be thrilled to hear from you.”

With a roll of her eyes, Cyn accepted the phone just as Shay answered the call. And as Bruce had predicted, she seemed genuinely happy to hear from her. Without Cyn having to mention her lack of a car, Shay volunteered to pick her up in the morning after she'd taken care of the horses.

In all of five seconds, Shay had a full day planned, and Cyn, caught up in the whirlwind of Shay's excitement, agreed to everything.

Satisfied, Bruce accepted his phone back and tucked it away after Cyn ended the call. “Shay's a charmer.”

“She's a bulldozer,” Cyn corrected, but her grin told Bruce that she didn't mind. Truth was, she liked Shay. She liked Bryan, too. And even Julie had seemed nice enough.

She wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, but she felt intimidated by people who weren't from her world—good, normal people. But Bruce's friends made it easier than she'd expected.

Bruce glanced back at the barn where her apartment had been built. From the driveway, you could barely see it. It was a good stretch of the legs from one structure to the next. “Promise me you'll take it easy and let your ankle rest.”

She crossed her heart. Once he left, she'd have nothing to do but rest. “Sure thing.”