Texas Tango: Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 2 (15 page)

A bedside light clicked on. She screamed and pressed the extra-large T-shirt to her chest.

“Did you know you talk to yourself?”

She whirled toward her bed. Travis sat propped against the headboard. The bedside lamp threw an enticing play of shadow and light across taut flesh stretched tight over wide muscular shoulders, thick biceps and an impossible-to-believe six-pack. He looked like a fashion model posing for…well, to be honest, he could sell anything looking like that.

“Damn it, Travis. I’m naked.”

He grinned, looking very much like a kid who’d gotten caught shaking presents under the Christmas tree. “Lucky for me my eyes had adjusted to the darkness.”

She turned her back to him and pulled the nightshirt over her head before facing him again. “I thought you’d left.”

“And I told you I wasn’t leaving until you didn’t need me.” He pointed to both sides of the bed. “Wasn’t sure if you slept on the right or the left, so I settled in the middle to wait.”

“Travis…” A mental philosophical war raged inside Caroline. As much as she’d like to deny it, she did want him to stay. However, she needed him to want to stay, not just be doing a favor for her. But how could she tell the difference? Truth be told, part of her would be crushed if he jumped out of bed right now and said, “Okay, then. See ya,” and headed for the door. Her breath held as she waited for his next move.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. The lower half of his totally luscious body was hidden by a pair of tie pajama bottoms, not so dissimilar to what she wore in the operating room.

Her mental war continued as part of her—one very minuscule molecule—was relieved he wasn’t clad just in his briefs. Most of her was disappointed. If Travis dressed solely in tie-pants was hot, heaven help her if he’d been standing there in his underwear, or better yet, wearing nothing at all.

Her heart, which had been slamming against her ribcage from being startled, now began hammering away due to the vision in front of her. Did he have any idea the effect he had on women? Was he totally clueless about how he looked? Did the poor man not own a mirror?

“Caroline. Come to bed. Nothing is going to happen but a good night’s sleep, which we both need.” He patted the mattress. “Left or right?”

Her sigh of surrender sounded more like a sigh of lust. She hoped he hadn’t noticed. “Right.”

“Good. I’m a left sleeper.” He slipped back under the sheet. “Are you coming?”

I wish
, she thought as she made her way around the bed and got in beside him.

“Now, here’s what’s gonna happen,” Travis said as he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. “Nothing. Not a damn thing except sleep. If you need me, I’m here. Remember that.”

They slid lower under the covers and put their heads on separate pillows. Caroline’s head stayed on her pillow for a couple of minutes before Travis scooted closer. Then her head found comfort resting on his shoulder.

Travis struggled to draw in a deep breath without waking Caroline. He’d awakened at his usual five in the morning and found Caroline’s hot flesh pressed up to his. At some point during the night she’d tossed her leg over his crotch. He hesitated to disturb her out of fear she might accidently bash his stiff erection with her knee.

To add more discomfort to his situation, her nightshirt had worked its way up to her waist, exposing her satiny panties. Each time she moved in the least, the silky material polished the skin of his outer thigh. Now that he’d been awake for an hour, having his flesh buffed and shined by her hot silk-covered mons, any movement sent additional blood careening to his penis, which in turn made him more nervous that a sudden startle could maim him for life.

And his arm was dead from being under her head all night, but he wasn’t complaining. He’d enjoyed the experience of sleeping with someone again. Enjoyed the comfort of not being alone. It’d been years since he’d woken up in bed with a woman. Recent sexual encounters—which were all he’d been able to emotionally manage since Susan’s death—had been just attraction and sexual release. No emotional involvement. Definitely no sleepovers.

Caroline was different. Different than he’d believed her to be. Caring. Funny. And she needed him. It’d been a long time since anyone had really needed him.

Gently, he brushed her hair off her face. Dark lashes rested on her high cheekbones. Her nose was a perfect size for her diminutive face, but at this angle he could see it was a little pug on the end. For some reason that made him smile. Her lips were slightly apart as a gentle snort escaped. Even with the petite snore, he yearned to run the tip of his tongue along her top lip, let it slide into the dip and then climb out to finish the trace to the far corner where he could continue his exploration on her lower lip.

The leg across his groin shifted and he positioned his free hand to protect the family jewels if necessary. She skimmed her calf down his thigh and across his knee before abruptly stopping. Her eyes flew open at the same time she tried to hurriedly move away.

“Stop, Caroline. You’re okay.”

As soon as he spoke, she stilled.

“Oh my God, Travis,” she said, her hand pressed to her chest. “I forgot you were here.” Under the covers she was trying to pull her nightshirt back down to her knees.

He grinned. “I think I like the fact my new wife isn’t used to waking up with men in her bed.”

She shoved her hair out of her face as she scooted up and over in bed. “What time is it?”

“A little after six.” He yawned and scratched his morning beard.

“Thank you for staying. I slept better than I thought I would.”

“First, I was happy to stay. Second, stop thanking me. It’s getting old. But if you really want to show me some gratitude, you can either show me those satiny panties that rubbed on me all night or make me some coffee.”

The blush on her cheeks deepened. Tugging her nightshirt down and holding the tail secure under her butt, she awkwardly climbed out of bed. “One pot of coffee coming up.”

“Aw, shoot. I was afraid that would be your answer.”

A blue silky robe hung on the back of a door he assumed led to her closet. After pushing her arms down the sleeves, she spoke without looking at him. “You’re a good guy, Travis. About last night…”

“Caroline.”

She turned to face him.

“I meant what I said last night. You’re a beautiful, desirable woman. No man in his right mind wouldn’t want to make love to you. But I like you too much to have taken advantage of your emotional state last night. When we make love, it’ll be because of good old lust and need.” He grinned. “We okay this morning?”

A half-smile tweaked her lips. “We’re okay. Coffee won’t take long. I’ll get some breakfast going. Anything in particular you’d like?”

“Besides seeing your panties? Man food. No yogurt. No health food.”

“Forget the panties, bud. You didn’t want to see them last night so you’re not seeing them this morning. Bacon, eggs and biscuits are what you’re getting.” As she walked through the door she looked over her shoulder. “Hey, Travis.”

When he looked toward her, she flipped her robe and nightshirt, exposing her cute silk-covered butt. “Changed my mind.” Then she walked into the hall.

A wide grin split his face.

She was not what he expected.

By the time Travis finished his phone calls—first to a garage about Caroline’s car and then to the Webster household—he had firm plans for the day, if he could convince Caroline to go along. He showered and made his way to the kitchen, bypassing the formal dining room that he noted was not set for a fancy breakfast. In the kitchen, Caroline had set breakfast on the small glass table in the nook formed by a bow window.

“Okay to eat in here?” she asked.

He inhaled and his stomach let out a loud growl that could be heard four blocks over.

“With the way that smells, I’d eat standing at the stove.”

Laughing, she set the plate holding golden, buttery-looking biscuits on the table. She pointed to a cabinet. “Coffee mugs are there. Black, right? Can’t remember you adding anything when we’ve had coffee at your parents’ place.”

Dramatically widening his eyes and dropping open his mouth, he gasped. “Darlin’, I’m a Texas cowboy. We don’t need no stinkin’ milk and sugar,” he said as he opened the cabinet door to retrieve a mug. He filled it to the rim and carried it over to the table.

She shook her head with a chuckle. “Silly me.”

“If you’re goin’ to be a cowboy’s gal, you gotta learn the rules.”

After settling into a chair, she said, “Black coffee. Got it. What else?”

“Meat and potatoes. No sissy food.”

She pretended to take notes on an imaginary notepad. “No sissy food. Right. Umm, exactly what would sissy food consist of?”

“You know, sissy stuff. Yogurt. Granola. Shrimp. Green stuff.”

The corners of her mouth twitched. “Shrimp is sissy?”

He shoved a biscuit and sausage into his mouth and chewed. After swallowing and taking a sip of coffee, he continued. “Well, shrimp might be okay if it’s grilled on a manly, outdoor grill. No shrimp stirred up with pasta.”

She rested her elbow on the table and propped her chin in the palm of her hand. “Wow. I had no idea there were so many rules. What else should every good cowboy’s gal know?”

“We don’t wear shorts. Don’t starch the work shirts. And, um…”He paused to make-up a few more rules. “Oh yeah, never ever set a cowboy’s hat on its brim. Always set it upside down on its top.” Except that rule wasn’t made up. He was dead serious.

“Are you serious? About the hat?”

“Yup.”

She gave him a thoughtful nod. “I didn’t know that.”

“Like I said, important stuff.” He snagged another biscuit off the plate. “By the way, I called a buddy who has a garage. He’s going to tow your car in today and have a look. Said it might be Monday before he can get to it.”

She nodded. “Thanks.” She sighed. “I hope I don’t have to buy another one.”

“You need a better car, Caroline. You can afford it, I’m sure.”

“That’s not the point. I’ve never been much of a car person, as long as what I have gets me where I need to go. Plus,” she made a face, “I hate dealing with car salesmen.”

“Fine. I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve heard from Buddy. Now, since you’re off today, I had an idea.”

“Oh?”

“How much of Singing Springs have you seen?”

She shrugged. “Mostly the area immediate to the house.”

“Great. Henree is making us a picnic lunch. I thought we could take a couple of the horses, ride over the property so you can really see it and then have lunch by the spring. Have you ever seen the spring the ranch is named for?” When she shook her head, he continued. “You really need to. Nicest piece of land in this area.”

She looked away from him as she drummed her fingernails on the table. Nervous? Of him? Of being alone with him?

Of course not. They’d been alone for days.

Then he had a thought that made his heart sputter. Was she afraid to see Singing Springs because she was having second thoughts about their deal? What would he say if that was the situation?

She stood and began collecting the dishes from the table. He reached out to wrap his fingers around her wrist and hold her still.

“What’s wrong?”

Pulling out of his grasp she turned toward the kitchen counter. “Nothing.”

“You are the worst liar,” he chided. “Fess up. What’s going on in that brain? Don’t you want to see Angus’s place?”

The dishes rattled when she set them firmly on the counter. “Can’t we see Singing Springs by car?”

The legs of his chair scraped the floor as he pushed back and stood. “No, we can’t. Riding the property is the best part. Webster is saddling a couple of horses for us. We’ll be able to see a lot of the land by horseback.”

Her knuckles were white from the death grip she had on the counter’s edge. “I don’t know. I’ve been away from the clinic. Maybe I should run by and see if there’s anything on my desk that needs my attention.”

When he put his hands on her shoulders to turn her around, he could feel her tension. “It’s Saturday. No one is there today.”

“But—”

“But nothing.” When she turned, he hated what he saw. Her face was ashen. Her eyes wide with fear. The artery in her neck throbbed visibly. “Hey. What’s going on? You look scared to death.” He pulled her into a hug. “Whatever it is, tell me. Maybe I can help.”

She mumbled something into his shoulder. He gently pushed her back until their gazes met.

“What?”

“I don’t know how to ride a horse.”

“Oh, Caroline.” He smiled and pulled her back against him. “That’s not a problem. You have jeans?”

She nodded.

“And some boots?”

She nodded again. “For some reason, your mom gave me a pair for my birthday.”

“Then throw those on with a blouse, which is of course always optional, and I’ll teach you. I’ve got the gentlest gelding. You’ll love him. Name’s Willard.”