Winter Harvest (6 page)

"I'll be fine from here."

"You sure? I don't want you to fall."

"I won't. The snow is starting to pick up." She fumbled for the door handle. "I don't want you to get stuck out here."

"Well, I'm going to wait until you get to the door, just to be safe."

"Fine. Thank you for taking care of me and being such a gentleman."

"You're welcome. Now, get over Traye. He's a jerk and isn't worth your trouble."

She just smiled.
Oh, after tonight he'll be history. Or not.

She got out of the truck, steadied herself, and then made her way to Traye's door. The lights were still on. Good sign. Stumbling up the steps, she turned to wave at Luke. Thankfully, he didn't wait for her to enter the cabin, but drove off instead. She knocked hard and waited. The TV blared from within, so she knew Traye was home.

"Traye, open up. It's snowing like crazy out here."

Footsteps rang out before the door swung opened.

"What the hell?" He stopped short. "Victoria? What are you doing here?"

"Giving you another chance."

"For what?"

Thanks to the cold, damp snow, she started to shake. "This."

She stumbled into the cabin and landed in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down for a kiss. He parted his lips, and a groan escaped his throat as he pulled her inside and deepened the kiss.

Chapter Five

Victoria melted against Traye as he gripped her butt and pulled her close. She wrapped her fingers around the damp curls at the nape of his neck and tugged on them. He wouldn't back out this time. As he deepened the kiss and pushed her jacket from her shoulders, her confidence soared. Tonight, he'd finally be hers.

He picked her up, pressing his strong, firm hands to her butt cheeks, and she wrapped her legs around him. She nuzzled his neck, and a hiss escaped his lips. She smiled.

Feeling his arousal, she bucked against him. He backed up to his bed and sat with her on his lap. Then he buried his head between her breasts, and she arched her back with a moan.

"Told you we'd be good together, Traye."

His breathing was labored, but his body went still.

"Traye?"

He lifted his head and pulled back as she moved forward to kiss his bruised lips. With gentle but forceful hands, he pushed her off his lap, then rose and stalked across the room.

"What are you doing here?" His eyes dark, he turned to study her.

Victoria stuck out her lower lip. Standing there with his chest bare and his jeans riding low on his hips, he looked so good. Her heart skipped a beat. She licked her lips.

"You don't want me?" She tried to stand, but her legs were like rubber, and she fell back onto the bed. A steady beat pounded in her head.

He shook his head and scowled. "Have you been drinking?"

"Well…" She held her thumb and pointer finger close to each other. "Just a little bit."

"Yeah, the way you're slurring your words, I'd say you had more than just a little bit. How'd you get here?" He turned to look out the window.

She knew he couldn't see anything but pitch blackness. "A friend dropped me off."

"Abbey?"

"No." She ducked her head. "Someone else."

"Victoria?" Traye's scowled deepened, and he crossed the room in three quick strides. "Who brought you here?"

"I caught a ride with a guy." She reached for him, but missed as he took a step back. "Abbey had her sights on some beefed up boy toy."

"You didn't know this guy? Are you crazy? You're drunk off your ass. He could have taken advantage of you, and you wouldn't even have known the difference."

"I'm not stupid. Luke was nice, and I knew I could trust him."

"Did you come from Jerry's?"

"Yeah. We were going out of town, but the stupid snowstorm ruined that. Although I've never seen this Luke guy before. No matter. I ended up where I want to be." Again she reached for him and missed. "Traye, come on. Join me in this nice, comfortable bed."

"The storm." His sexy lips grew into a frown before his eyes flew wide. He walked toward the door. "We should get you home before it starts. You need to sleep off this drunk."

He swung open the door. Wind and snow swept inside with a big whoosh.

"Too late. It was already coming down pretty good when I got here." She got up and walked over to him. She ran her fingers over his warm flesh, then stretched up on tiptoe to kiss the back of his neck. "I'll go home later. For now, we can enjoy what we both want."

Traye jerked away, leaving her hands empty. A gush of cold air, combined with a swirl of stinging, wet flakes, caught her attention. He pushed the door shut and leaned his forehead against it.

"Damn. It's really bad out there." He turned to look at her with a deep crease in his forehead. He ran his fingers through his hair. "I can't let you wander home in this. You'd get lost in an instant in this whiteout. Shit. This isn't good. If either Robert or Andrew catch you here, I'm dead."

"They won't." She advanced on her prey, then kissed and licked his chest. She ran her nails over his muscular abs and reached her pointer finger underneath the band of his jeans and rubbed his sensitive skin. He moaned. He was about to surrender; she could sense it. Running her tongue around his hard nipple, she sighed in satisfaction.

"Victoria, stop." He grabbed her shoulders and shoved her away. She stumbled, thanks to her heels, but managed to stay on her feet.

She blinked at him. "Stop what? If they find us, you can blame it on me and the alcohol. In the meantime, we can satisfy our hunger. I want you so much. We're both adults and can make our own decisions. Dad and Andrew don't have to be an issue. This is about us."

Again she stepped closer, and he sidestepped her. She twirled around too fast and grabbed the wall to steady herself.

"Look at you." Traye grabbed her arm and walked her over to the loveseat. "Sit down before you fall. You're so wasted, you can't even stand."

He knelt before her to remove her boots. "You're going to sleep this off with all your clothes on. I'll take you home in the morning if we can get out of here, but understand this: Nothing is going to happen between us."

"You're such a jerk." Victoria shook her leg until he let go of it. "Screw you. I'm so sick of your holy attitude. Your kisses don't lie. You want me, and I know you have feelings for me, but I'm done begging."

"Good, because nothing is going to happen." He sat back on his haunches. "I have nothing to offer you. This is for your own good."

"Forget it, Traye." She came to her feet and weaved a bit before standing tall. The alcohol was starting to curdle in her stomach. Damn if she'd embarrass herself even more by getting sick. This had been her worse idea yet. "You won't have to worry about me anymore. I won't be throwing myself at you again. I'm not a child."

"Then quit acting like one."

"I will." She pursed her lips and managed to step past him, thankful she didn't fall.

He stared at her. "What are you doing?"

"I believe it's called the walk of shame, only without the sex. Not my most glorious moment, so let me leave with what dignity I have left." The rustle of movement signaled to her that he'd gotten to his feet.

"You can't leave in this storm."

"Oh, yes, I can." She grabbed her jacket from the floor and didn't bother to put it on before she reached for the door, knowing he wouldn't let her walk out. The cold air cleared her fuzzy head the minute she opened the door. Intoxicated or not, she couldn't stay here. Not after this humiliating wakeup call.

"Victoria, don't. Let me at least make you something to eat, sober you up some."

"I'm not your father." She turned toward him with the snow sweeping in at her feet. "You don't have to take care of me."

"Oh, really? Because right now, you're sure acting like him -- minus the abuse, of course."

"You ass." She spun and stepped out the door into the cold snow. With the stinging flakes hitting her in the face, she couldn't see what was in front of her, let alone tell where one step began and the other ended.

"You're not going anywhere." He rushed out the door and reached for her.

Victoria took a chance and stepped down.

"No," he cried, his fingers just grazing her arm. "Get back in here."

She'd judged wrong and caught the end of the step. Her knees buckled, and she pitched forward. Her hands found only thin air. The hard wooden steps bruised her body as she tumbled down in a heap. A sharp pain pierced her left temple before her world went black.

*****

Traye wrung out the wash rag and rushed back to Victoria, who was unconscious. A trail of blood trickled down her cheek and dropped onto the white pillow case. The bruise on her face already had a purple tint to it and had started to swell.

"Damn it, Victoria. Wake up."

No response.

Her stillness brought back the memory of the many days, nights, and weeks Traye had helped his father conceal his drinking until he'd pass out like the dead. Many times, he'd struggled between wishing it were so and fearing it was.

As he washed Victoria's wounds, he wished she'd wake up so he could take her in his arms and never let her go. Her pale skin made the blood appear darker.

"Come on, sweetheart. Are you trying to prove a point?" He kissed the top of her head. "Okay, fine. You mean more to me than any one night stand could satisfy."

Her eyes fluttered, and a weak groan escaped her lips.

"That a girl. Open those pretty eyes and give me your most aggravated death stare."

"What happened?" Victoria obeyed, and her hand flew to her head. Her body shook, and her teeth chattered. Her big eyes settled on his face. "Ouch. Why am I so wet and cold and sore? Everything hurts, especially my head."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she put him off.

"Is that blood?" She spotted the washcloth, and her eyes grew wide.

"Yeah," he said. "You fell down the steps outside."

"Oh. I remember. I was trying to get away from you and your nasty insinuations." Victoria tried to push herself up, but fell back down. She closed her eyes tight. "I need to get out of here."

"You can't. The storm is too bad, and you're hurt. I think you might have a concussion. The wound by your eye should be okay. The bleeding is subsiding. I've done this before many times. Let me take care of you until the storm lets up."

"Will you stop comparing me to your father? I'm not a drunk."

"I know you aren't, and I wasn't implying that you are."

"Oh, no." Her complexion turned a weird shade of green. Again she tried to rise, but couldn't. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Traye wasted no time in picking her up and running to the bathroom. He planted her in front of the toilet. The instant she knelt down, she gagged and threw up.

Although she wasn't a pretty sight at the moment, Traye held back her limp hair. When she finished, she put down the lid and leaned her forehead against it.

Unable to stop himself, he chuckled. "Those mixed drinks still seem like a good idea?"

"Shut up."

"Are you going to be okay now?"

"Considering I made a fool of myself, got rejected, and lost my cookies in front of you, no. I feel so stupid, and now I'm trapped here."

"I've seen you a lot worse, and you know it."

After her mother died, Victoria had locked herself in her room away from everyone but Traye. He'd let her cry on his shoulder for hours and had even shed a few tears himself. For the first time, he'd shared the pain of losing his own mother to a self-inflicted death. The shame he had of his mother picking death over him had prevented him from giving his whole heart to anyone. Now, Victoria threatened to break through the wall he had built around himself. In fact, it had already started to crumble.

She pushed herself away from the toilet and stood. Her legs wobbled. She lay her hand on his chest, and he helped steady her. He grabbed the washcloth and ran it under the warm water. With gentle strokes, he washed her face. Their eyes locked, and he bent down to kiss her forehead. He pulled away and caught her as she swayed. He shouldn't have done that. Damn, she had some kind of pull with him.

"You dizzy?"

"Nothing a nap won't help." With baby steps, she made her way out of the bathroom.

"That'll have to wait, I'm afraid."

She turned around and scowled at him. "Excuse me?"

"We can't be sure you don't have a concussion. You need to stay awake."

"I believe you should wake me every two hours." She sank onto the bed with one hand on her stomach, and the other on her head. "Isn't that what the doctor told you when you fell?"

Traye's father had been on a binge for a week. Nothing new there, except this time he trashed the cabin on a rant. Traye had never seen him that bad. Fed up and ashamed, Traye had dumped all the liquor he could find, even though he knew that wouldn't stop his old man. He'd hoped that maybe this time his father would return to the loving man he'd been before Traye's mother died. While emptying the top shelf, however, Traye slipped, tumbled to the ground, and hit his head on the corner of the counter. He'd gotten a goose egg, and the blow had knocked him out. He'd awakened dizzy and nauseated, and had called Andrew for help since he had no one else. Andrew's parents had come instead and had taken him to the hospital.

Traye sat next to Victoria and put his arm around her. "You're shivering. How about we get you cleaned up first? We need to at least get you warm."

"That actually sounds good." She dropped her head onto his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a hug. Although she was bruised and battered, the feel of her soft skin still sent a jolt up his spine. He had to force himself to release her. Victoria was the strongest, sassiest woman he had ever encountered. Seeing her so subdued killed him. "All right. I'll fill the tub."

"Do you have bubbles?"

"I've got dish soap." Traye smiled.
Here is the woman I know and love
. "Will that work?"