Long Ride (Riding with Honor) (3 page)

“I might just do that,” she smiled pulling out one of the pills and drinking it down with some water.

Even with the pill it still took her nearly an hour to finally fall asleep and as soon as she was out he physically relaxed back into the seat.  It bothered him to see her struggle and she
was
struggling with something. 

Either the weight of this lunatic who was gunning for her was actually getting to her, or she had some other issues.  He hadn’t missed the prescription sleeping pills she’d taken at dinner.  What kept those beautiful eyes wide awake while other people slept?

Becca was the kind of woman any man would be proud to show off.  She was very attractive, curvy in all the right spots, intelligent, witty and had the most amazing eyes and a beautiful smile.  He’d first met her when she’d come to Florida to help out Bobby and Chuck when they had kicked the shit out of a deserving FBI agent. 

His first glimpse had been a set of killer legs getting out of the back of a taxicab and not a day went by that the image of them didn’t replay at least once through his mind.  If the mental image of her curvy little bottom or shapely legs didn’t kick his libido into over drive, her sassy mouth certainly did the trick. 

She was equal parts fire and ice.  Her words and body language could heat him to the boiling point only to then have her suddenly back off and place a wall of ice between them.

He had offered to pay for Chuck’s legal fees and so far she’d refused to accept any money from him, Bobby, or even Tommy.  They couldn’t figure out how she had managed to grow her law firm to include nine other attorneys if she didn’t charge people. 

He would feel much better about asking for her help with finding out who Chuck’s parents were for sure, if she’d have taken the money or at least taken him up on his offer to show her
how
good he was with his hands.

Whatever it was that was bothering her, he would figure it out.  He was exceptional at reading people and eventually she’d give him a clue.  In the meantime he’d just like to see the bags under her eyes disappear. 

He wanted the spitfire back who’d read him the riot act over giving Chuck a Nerf gun right after she’d threatened the young man’s life if he so much as looked at another gun.  That single incident had left an image in his mind of her flushed with passion rather than anger and her skin glowing from orgasm rather than from frustration. 

She was probably right, he should grow up and stop having teenage fantasies about some little beauty, but each time he saw her, the fantasy just got more vivid and more frequent.  He’d contemplate selling his soul for a taste of her at this point.

He’d refused her offer of taking a flight to Florida for two reasons.  He didn’t want trapped on a flight with some maniac or to point out to the nut job where he was taking her, and secondly he wanted time with her…
alone.
 

She obviously didn’t care for him in that way, but merely tolerated him.  That had never stopped him before and after letting him hold her little hand in his, his persistence had been worth it.  It wasn’t like he was looking at her with any expectations other than two consenting adults with needs. 
Now he was a sinner and a liar.
 

For the twentieth time in as many minutes he looked in the rearview and noted no cars behind them and then his eyes swept across her peaceful features before he forced them back to the road.  Beautiful wasn’t adequate to describe her.  Breathtaking or stunning was a little closer to being accurate. 

The thought that she would likely end up in his bed
alone
while he took the couch left him sighing and taking a sip of his now cold coffee.  He had to force himself to keep his eyes on the road when what he really wanted to do was watch her sleep.

Some nearly four hours later and well into the middle of the night
, he pulled into the driveway of his house and turned off the car.  She didn’t budge and her breathing remained consistent.  Getting out of the car he didn’t close the door behind him, just went and unlocked the house and then came back to where he’d parked. 

Carrying her seemed the only humane thing to do since she was obviously exhausted and finally sleeping.  Opening the back passenger door quietly he leaned in and slid one arm beneath her knees.

Her body suddenly tensed and she scooted up and over against the opposite door before he even knew she was awake.

“No…please…” she begged with terror etched on her face.  Then
, as if realizing where she was and who he was, she sat upright.

“Becca...?  It’s just me.  I would never hurt you
,” he said, showing her his palms. “I was just going to carry you inside since you were finally sleeping so well.”

“Oh that’s not necessary
,” she laughed nervously “I’m awake now.”

With that she got out of the car, without another word or look, and
walked to the front door. 
What the hell had just happened?
  He couldn’t be sure but he recognized the reaction.  Some of his buddies in the service had come home with those types of reactions.  Now days they called it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD. 

Why would she be having
those types of reactions?  There had been more fear on her face in that brief moment, than on the faces of some of the men he’d killed.  Climbing back out of the car and then gathering up her things from the backseat and closing and locking the doors, he headed inside.

He sat her things in the chair right inside the living room and noticed the light on in the bathroom.  Having told her a little of his own past he had hoped she would share a little about herself, but she’d simply shed a few tears for Chuck or maybe for him, he wasn’t real sure, and then changed the subject. 

Her reaction in the car was so uncharacteristic of the hellcat she projected he didn’t know what to make of it, but after seventeen hours of driving he was too exhausted to roll it around in his mind.  He sat down on the couch prepared to wait for her to get herself together and come face him.

It was time to face him.
  She couldn’t hide out in his tiny bathroom for the rest of night.  She would just tell him he had startled her which wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t a confession either.  The look of shock on his face had embarrassed her and she’d nearly run for his house and the bathroom. 

Some tough no holds barred attorney she was…
a chicken shit
was more like it.  She hadn’t done that in years, but she hadn’t fallen asleep around anyone in years either.

The past week of staying at the hotel with Greg and being out of her comfort zone had left her severely sleep deprived.  Amazingly enough she had slept in the car…
really slept
… like the no dreams kind of sleep that her body had been screaming for since this whole thing started.  Sucking in a breath she opened the door and turned off the light and walked back down the narrow hallway.

His house was small with two very tiny bedrooms, one of which was being used as a leather working shop of sorts rather than a bedroom.  Heading into the living room she stopped short at the sleeping giant of a man.  He had driven at least fifteen of the more than seventeen hours they’d been on the road, if not more. 

Now he slept like a baby, leaning back on the couch his head at an odd angle, fully dressed.  She should try to get him stretched out a little better so his neck didn’t cramp.  He could have the couch and she could take the smaller loveseat, since sleeping in his room was out of the question. 
That idea just seemed too intimate somehow.

Approaching him quietly and slowly she reached down and unlaced one of his boots.  She could probably fit both of her feet in just one of his boots.  After unlacing them she realized there was no way she could lift the dead weight of his leg to pull them off.

“I should have kicked them off and made it easier for you to strip me bare,” he said.

His voice startled her but upon looking up into his face and seeing his wickedly sexy grin she couldn’t help but grin back.  It always came back to her having her way with him.  This time it was better that than asking her why she’d acted like a frightened child.

“Why don’t you go on to bed,” she suggested.

Kicking his boots off and stretching out along the length of the couch he looked up at her and said
, “Why don’t you kick off your shoes and snuggle up against this old dog for a few minutes… you did wake him after all.”

“I didn’t want you to get a pinch in your neck
,” she said, looking anywhere but at him.  He even looked sexy lounging on the couch. 

Reaching up he took hold of her hand and linked his fingers with hers and pulled her gently
toward him. 

“I don’t want anything from you right now Becca… other than to hold you and make up for scaring you earlier
,” he said quietly. “Just for five minutes.”

Perhaps it was the sleeping pill making her brain into slush or the late hour and
all that time riding in a car, but she sat down in the middle of the couch.  She was close enough she could feel the length of him where he lay between her and the back of the couch. 

Sitting up slowly he leaned forward and propped his forehead against the side of her head and said “Please… how about
one
minute?”

Take a bite of the forbidden fruit Eve.
  Whoever insinuated the devil was red, ugly and had horns was mistaken.  In this case the devil was wearing blue jeans and a grin that whispered how fun sinning with him might be.

Then his hand was guiding her down to lie next to him on the couch.  She was on the edge so he slowly wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against him and then left his arm there. 

He was warm and firm against her back.  Her head was lying on the pillow that his other arm was tucked beneath.  Moving slightly he pulled his arm out from beneath the pillow and suddenly his fingers were running through her hair where they could reach.

She waited for the panic and fear to take over and consume her but the anxiety never came.  His fingers felt like a slice of heaven where they gently massaged her scalp pulling on the strands of her hair with just enough tension to move them.  Unable to fight it she relaxed back against him and upon feeling the tension leave her he said
, “Sleep little darlin… I’ve got you.” 
Sleeping here with him… like this… not possible.

Becca
started awake at the sound of the phone ringing.  She scrambled upright just as Dickie came awake as well.  Sunlight filtered through the cracks of a set of heavy drapes covering the front window of his ranch style home.  He sat up beside her and ran his hand down his face before standing up and stumbling to the phone and picking it up.

“Yea
,” he said.

After a brief pause he said
, “We made it in late last night… sorry I forgot to call.”

She’d actually slept with him spooning her on a couch that was nearly too small for him, let alone two people!  The amazing part was she couldn’t remember sleeping that soundly or for that long of a stretch in months or maybe even years.

“No she’s awake.  Let us get showered and we’ll head on over there,” he said. “Bye.”

Turning to her he grinned.  She could only imagine what sort of fresh hell she resembled but he looked entirely too good for someone who had just woke up.

“Gran…” he said, indicating the phone with his thumb.  “We could shower together and conserve water which would help the environment
and
hurry this process along all at the same time.”

“You never stop do you?” s
he laughed.

“Never
,” he smiled. “You go ahead in the shower.  There are towels in the closet.  I’ll put your bags in the bedroom at the end of the hall and start some coffee and breakfast after I unload the car.”

Making her way back to the tiny bathroom and closing the door she glanced in the mirror and groaned.  The section of her hair he had been playing with stuck out from her head and her eyeliner and mascara had run from falling asleep without removing it.  Stepping beneath the spray of warm water had her invigorated in no time.

After dressing and using her travel sized hairdryer she followed the smell of coffee into his positively minuscule kitchen.  He was eating bacon, eggs and toast, drinking coffee and reading a newspaper.  A plate for her sat across from him at the small kitchen table. 

His place was small but cozy even amidst the lack of decorations and color. 
A true bachelor’s pad if there ever was one.

“It smells wonderful
,” she said, sitting down.

“How do you take your coffee?” h
e asked, standing up and pulling out a mug from a cabinet and filling it with the wonderful brown liquid.

“Hot and strong
,” she replied.

Smiling he said
, “no… the coffee, not
me
… how do you take your
coffee
?”

Laughing he sat the coffee in front of her plate and then headed out of the kitchen and a few minutes later she heard the shower turn on.  The man could twist her words into something sexual no matter what she said.