Collision (3 page)

“By the way, do you ever dress down?” he asked her. “I hope
you own some jeans or something. That stuff looks a little formal for the
tour.”

Leah looked down at herself as if confused by his comment.
“I don’t wear jeans very often. Usually I’m either wearing training clothes or
dressed like this.”

“Then I’d suggest you buy some jeans and t-shirts. You’re
gonna stick out like a sore thumb wearing duds like those. Plus there’s dirt
all over the place and I’m sure you’d hate to ruin your expensive stuff.”

“Is there anything about me that is acceptable to you?” she
grumbled and he couldn’t help but smile. Oh yeah, there was a lot about her
that was very acceptable. The tightness in his Wranglers could attest to that.
He decided to say as much and see what kind of reaction he got. If she shot him
down it would probably be better for both their sanities anyway.

“Honey, there’s a lot about you that’s acceptable to me.
Hell, better’n acceptable.” She flushed but didn’t slap him or otherwise
respond. Interesting reaction. Maybe she really was just as attracted as he
was. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “I’m just making a
suggestion. I told you, there’s a lotta dust and dirt in the arenas. Tell you
what. We’ll have some time when we get to Pueblo before I have to compete. There’s
a great Western store there. You can load up on jeans, maybe a pair of cowboy
boots and a cute little hat.”

Leah looked unconvinced. “I don’t know…”

“Don’t think so hard about everything, Leah. Trust me,
you’ll feel a lot more at home being on tour with us if you’re wearing the same
stuff we are, and that’s jeans, t-shirts, cowboy hats and boots.”

Leah sighed and he knew he had her. “I’ll take it under
advisement.”

Leah woke up in a haze of confusion, reaching blindly for
the alarm clock in the darkness. After flopping back onto the bed she took a
moment to assess her surroundings. Remembering where she was, she groaned and
crawled out of bed, wrapping her satin robe around her as she stumbled to the
bathroom. Even after years of early training sessions she was not a morning
person by any stretch of the imagination, and the thought of having to be
chipper on the air at seven was not a happy one. She hadn’t been able to fall
asleep until after midnight, so she was working on barely four hours of sleep,
since it was currently four-thirty in the morning. She would be lucky to make
it through the round of interviews today awake, much less coherent.

Turning on the water full-blast, she stepped under the
spray. After cleansing quickly and washing her hair, she stepped out, dried
off, dressed, pulled her hair into a quick bun, and was just tucking her room
key in her purse when a knock sounded at the door. Brows knitting together, she
went to the peephole and looked out. Brady stood on the other side, looking
entirely too upright and cheerful for this early. The hot, irritating bastard.

She opened the door and gave him a once-over. “Why are you
so happy?” Turning, she closed the door behind her and started down the hall.

Brady followed her, chuckling. “I own a ranch. In the
offseason I get up pretty early to work it. Besides, I only need five or six
hours of sleep a night anyway. I take it you’re an eight-hour kinda gal?”

Leah didn’t answer, just punched the down button for the elevator
with entirely more force than was necessary. It didn’t respond immediately and
she poked it again for good measure. Brady reached over and touched her arm,
sending a spark of awareness up it. Wow, she was awake now. She peeked at Brady
to see if she was the only one who felt the connection. She wasn’t. He stared
at her, a flicker of something in his eyes she couldn’t quite decipher.

Why was she so attracted to this man? He was completely
unlike the men she usually dated. She liked her men in suits, with good, stable
jobs and a similar upbringing to hers so they understood her lifestyle and the
inherent pressures. Suddenly, men like that sounded incredibly boring. Rubbing
her temples, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on the coming day.

“I’ll buy us some coffee at the shop downstairs before we
hop in a cab,” he offered when she forced her eyes open once again. “We can’t
have you going on national television with that little wrinkle between these
perfect eyebrows.” He smiled and reached up, smoothing out the skin on her
forehead before briefly stroking her cheek with the rough pad of his finger.
Leaning in, he placed a gentle kiss between her eyes, his warm lips lingering.
Their reverie was interrupted when the elevator dinged. Both of them jumped back
and then Brady said, “After you, ma’am.” She stepped onto the elevator and he
followed, pushing the button for the lobby. He was in front of her and to her
right, and as they descended her eyes were drawn to his backside. How did one
man manage to draw such a winning ticket in the body lottery? It was hardly
fair to the rest of them.

True to his word, Brady bought coffees for both of them in
the lobby, snorting when she asked for a venti nonfat latte with a shot of
sugar-free vanilla syrup. “What’s your problem now?” she groused.

“Nothing. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’d be into
those double-double, extra-extra everything coffees. I hope you can tolerate
plain old cream and sugar, though, because that’s all you’ll find on tour.”

“Plain old cream and sugar are just fine,” she bit out,
irritated that he assumed she couldn’t hack it in less-than-ideal conditions.
“Look, I’ve competed in China, Russia, Hungary, you name it. And it didn’t
bother me a bit that I didn’t have five-star accommodations. Now will you get
off my back?”

He held up his hands. “Whoa, you really aren’t a morning
person, are you?”

“No.”

“Well, then, I apologize. Can we still take a cab together
if I promise to be a good boy?”

Leah sighed. It was amazing how in turns she wanted to throttle
him and kiss him. “Let’s get this circus underway.”

“Show me the clown makeup.” He grinned at her and she
couldn’t help but laugh.

Once at the TV studio they were ushered into makeup chairs.
Leah watched as Brady patiently sat while a petite woman with far too much
energy for this time of day bustled around him, applying pancake makeup and
arranging his hair just so. He was far quieter than yesterday and she guessed
it was in deference to her foul mood. She sat sipping her coffee, feeling the
caffeine mercifully starting to take effect, while her makeup was done and her
hair styled. Her preparations took longer than Brady’s, and he began to pace
the room like a caged tiger.

“Why don’t you have someone show you where the green room
is? You can grab another cup of coffee, maybe a doughnut,” she suggested.

Brady made a face. “I don’t eat that kind of stuff unless I
have to. I eat enough crap at the arenas as it is ’cuz there’s nothing else
available. Despite what you no doubt think, what I do for a living is a sport
and I need to keep myself in good shape.”

“That’s obvious,” she mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” she replied, her face flaming. She hoped the
heavy layers of makeup would hide the redness from him.

He feigned surprise, one hand on his chest and the other
over his mouth.

Pity covering up that mouth…

“Did I hear you just make a comment about my body?”

“No! Of course not,” she told him, knowing her backpedaling
wasn’t doing any good. “Why would I say something so crass?”

Brady smirked. “Because you liked what you saw yesterday?”

She took a gulp of her coffee, but began to choke when it
went down the wrong way. Coughing and sputtering, she bent at the waist, her
hand thumping her chest. Brady was instantly at her side, rubbing her back.

“Sugar? Are you all right? Can I do anything?”

Leah shook her head. “Down wrong,” she managed to gasp out.

“Ah.” He continued to rub her back, his hand warm and
strong. Soon the gasping and wheezing abated, but she was loath to sit up. It
felt too good to have an excuse for him to touch her.

She straightened through sheer force of will and glanced at
him in the mirror. “I’m fine now, thanks.” She ran a tissue lightly underneath
her eyes to remove the moisture that had built up from her coughing fit.
“Ready? We can wait in the green room until they call us.” Not waiting for a
reply, she rose from the chair and left the room. A production assistant
pointed them in the right direction along the way.

Brady sat and watched television while she flipped through a
magazine. A short time later they were called to the set and microphones were
attached to their clothing. After being introduced to the two hosts, they sat
down and waited for the commercial break and subsequent news segment to end.

The floor director gave Melanie, one of the hosts, the
countdown, and she began to speak. “We’re joined by Olympic Gold Medalist Leah
Fitzpatrick and top-ranked professional bull rider Brady Parrish. Yes, you
heard that right, a figure skater and a bull rider. Let’s find out what they’re
doing together.” She turned to Leah and said, “So, tell us about how you two
got hooked up.”

Leah wondered why everything Melanie had said made it sound as
if she and Brady were a couple. Was that on purpose? Maybe to play off the sexy
photos from yesterday? Well, two could play that game. Pasting on her best
public persona smile, Leah began, “It’s simple, really. Nelson Motors is a
sponsor of both the US Figure Skating Association and the National Bull Riding
Tour. The CEO of Nelson Motors, David Nelson, approached both of us and asked
if we’d consider doing a promotional tour to let the folks in each sport learn
a little about the other. After all, who wouldn’t want to learn more about a
sport that boasts good-looking guys like Brady taking on those big, powerful
beasts?”

She reached over, grasped Brady’s biceps and squeezed,
throwing him a wink and barely holding back a giggle when his mouth fell open
and a blush crept up his face. She was happy to see she’d shocked him. Clearly
he hadn’t expected this reaction from her. Of course, she’d been in this game a
long time and knew David would love it too.

Melanie tittered and turned to her co-host. “Who, indeed?”

Evan, the male host, smiled indulgently and addressed Brady.
“So what’s your part in all this?”

Brady cleared his throat. “I get to escort this lovely lady
on my tour for the next couple of weeks, show her off to my fans, and tell ’em
all about what a great sport figure skating is.”

“But really, Brady, have you ever even watched figure
skating?” Evan scoffed.

Brady’s eyes turned stormy so fast even Leah jumped away a
bit. “Of course I’ve watched figure skating. It’s a beautiful sport, and it’s
every bit a sport. If you think it’s easy to get that kinda air for those
jumps, much less land them on ice with those itty-bitty blades, you’re outta
your mind. It takes a tremendous amount of strength, determination and skill.
Anyone who laughs at figure skating, who thinks it’s a sissy sport, just isn’t
giving it a chance.” Leah noticed his accent was thicker when he was angry and
idly wondered when else it was thicker. She felt her face flame again. Why
couldn’t she better control her reactions to this man?

Melanie cut in then. “Well said, Brady. We need to take a
break. We’ll be right back with Leah Fitzpatrick and Brady Parrish, who are
here to talk about their respective sports, figure skating and bull riding.”

When the camera clicked off, Brady sighed. “I apologize for
my outburst, Evan. It’s just…it makes me mad when people assume stuff about
other people.” Leah was still too shocked to say a word. But as Evan and
Melanie conferred with the producer, Brady reached over and squeezed her knee.
“Hey,” he whispered.

She blinked up at him. “Hey.”

“You all right?”

“Fine…”

“You sure? You need some water? You look like you’ve seen a
ghost or something, sweetheart.”

“No, I’m good, really.” She studied him for a moment and he
let her look her fill. “Thank you for what you said. No doubt people will think
it was only because Nelson Motors is paying you to.” She laughed. “That probably
is
why you said it, but thank you nonetheless. That might be one thing
we have in common. People laugh at what both of us do for a living. It’s really
hard sometimes, isn’t it?”

Maybe I should give bull riding more respect than I have…

Brady shrugged. “I just let it roll off my back for the most
part. But I couldn’t let him make fun of you.”

Leah cocked her head, looking at him with narrowed eyes.
“Why do you care if he makes fun of me?”

“Because you’re not a morning person and I didn’t want to
see you go over the table and rip out his jugular,” he joked, but refused to
meet her eyes. “The commercial’s almost over.”

“We’re back with Leah Fitzpatrick, Olympic gold medal winning
figure skater, and Brady Parrish, top-ranked professional bull rider. When we
went to break you were saying, Brady, that Leah would be going on tour with
you?”

“Yep, she sure is.”

“And what will you be doing on tour, Leah?”

Leah smiled. “I’ll have the easy job, I assure you. While
Brady is battling the bulls, I’ll be signing autographs, taking pictures, that
sort of thing. And, of course, I’ll be watching the events. It sounds exciting.
Scary, but exciting.”

“Well, here’s hoping Brady has good luck with the bulls and
you have fun on tour,” Evan replied. The camera cut out to another part of the
studio, and Leah and Brady stood.

“Thank you so much for the opportunity to speak today,” Leah
told them, shaking their hands before turning to the producer. “We really
appreciate it.”

Brady did the same and then they made their way out of the
studios and into yet another cab, this time bound for the radio and television conglomerate
where they’d be doing interviews for the rest of the morning.

By the time noon arrived, Leah was already exhausted. She’d
forgotten how tiring these media days could be. Brady didn’t look much better.
They both ate their takeout sandwiches in silence before taping segments for a
bunch of television affiliates. After what seemed like an eternity they were
done and headed back to the hotel.

“I can’t wait for a nap,” Leah declared, groaning as she
pressed her fingers into her aching neck muscles.

“That actually sounds real good. I don’t usually sleep
during the day unless we’re traveling, but I’m bushed. Wanna grab some dinner
later?” When Leah paused to consider her answer he added, “Please? I hate
eating alone.” He gave her a lost puppy-dog look which didn’t fool her for a
second, but she agreed. “Great. I’ll make reservations for seven. See you in a
few.”

Ducking into her own room, she collapsed on the bed and was asleep
within seconds.

* * * * *

Brady called down to the concierge as soon as he got back to
his room. He didn’t want to eat in the hotel restaurant—he wanted something a
little special. As he waited for the phone to ring he smiled to himself. Leah
would shit bricks when she saw him in a suit tonight. He hadn’t been sure what
he would need on this little field trip, so he’d brought some of everything. It
might not be a fancy designer suit, but he’d had it custom-made. He’d had to,
since most off-the-rack suits didn’t fit the shoulders or thighs of his
muscular frame.

When the concierge answered they spoke for a few minutes.
Brady didn’t want to get stuck in some place where he had to remember a million
rules about which fork to use when, but he did want to show Leah he could be as
civilized as the next guy. He wasn’t sure why he cared what she thought, and
didn’t choose to examine it too closely. After picking a nice steakhouse, which
the concierge assured him had a varied menu just in case Leah wasn’t a fan of
red meat, he hung up and flopped onto the bed. He’d intended on taking a nap,
but decided to call Conner first.