The Bull Rider's Collection (51 page)

“He’s not my Jesse …” Taylor started to say, but Barb shushed her when the announcers started talking again. Eventually, they announced his score. Eighty-seven.

Barb sighed. “It’s good, but it should have been better. Sometimes, the judges are a little tight early in the night. I hope it holds.”

Taylor watched the next few riders, and no one stayed on for the full eight seconds. So far, Carl was still in the lead. The loudspeaker announced Jesse Sullivan’s name and Taylor’s heart sank. She leaned forward, unable to breathe. She saw the black hat that Jesse had slipped on when he got out of the car. It was the final piece of his uniform to play the part of professional bull rider. No wonder he wanted to paint and focus on art. At least in a gallery, his chance of getting stomped on by a rampaging bull after being thrown off was slim to none. Although, art critics could be destructive to a new artist’s career and mental well-being.

Jesse nodded his head and the gate flew open. Barb had told Taylor that his bull, Taste the Earth, hadn’t ever been ridden for the full eight seconds. If Jesse could just stay on ... She watched the bull buck, and Jesse leaned so far back that his head nearly touched the bull’s flanks. His free arm balanced his body against the bull’s motion. Almost as fast, the bull regained his footing and twisted left, then right, trying to unseat his rider. Jesse stayed on. Taylor wanted to glance at the clock, but she couldn’t stop watching.

The buzzer went off and Jesse let go, flying off the side of the bull. Before the animal could register he was gone, Jesse hopped on the corral fence and glanced through the grandstands. He caught her eye and grinned, waving his hat.

“Leave it to Jesse,” Barb mumbled.

“He stayed on the bull—that’s what he’s supposed to do, right?” Taylor asked.

Barb sighed. “I was just hoping Carl might win this one. The kid’s been in Jesse’s shadow so long that he’s beginning to grow mushrooms on his feet.”

“He’ll have his day. Jesse’s retiring soon.” Hunter smiled at Taylor. “He’s becoming a fancy art dealer. You think you can tame the guy enough so he doesn’t spit tobacco in your pretty shop?”

Taylor’s eyes widened. “He chews?”

Barb slapped Hunter’s leg. “He’s just kidding you. Jesse doesn’t smoke, chew or, as far as I know, do anything illegal. He does like his tequila, though.”

“Yeah, I found that out,” Taylor said, grinning. She wanted to add that he hadn’t yet bought the art gallery. But like any good poker player, Taylor held on to her card. It would either be a wild card in the game, or just a joker. She didn’t know if she could pull it off, or if her folks would even let her buy the gallery.

She cheered along with the crowd at Jesse’s ninety-three score. The trio watched the rest of the riders, but even Taylor knew Jesse had clinched the win. She finished her beer just as Jesse slipped onto the bench next to her.

“Did you watch, or hide your eyes behind your hands?” Jesse handed long necks down the row. Barb waved hers off. Jesse cocked his head, examining her face. She flushed under his scrutiny. “Fine, don’t tell me. It just means more beer for me.”

Taylor took the offered bottle, cold and icy in her hand. “I watched. You’re pretty good.”

Jesse held a hand to his heart. “Faint praise. I’ll die if you don’t tell me how amazingly awesome I was tonight.”

“Does it say rodeo groupie on my forehead?” Taylor asked.

Hunter laughed. “Get him, Taylor.”

Barb leaned against her husband and watched Taylor and Jesse. “You two fight like an old married couple.”

Jesse shook his head. “This isn’t fighting, Barb; it’s the courting ritual. She’s into me.”

After they left Barb and Hunter at the rodeo, Jesse and Taylor drove across town to find dinner. Taylor groaned when he pulled the car into a steakhouse parking lot. “Sorry, I know we had steak last night, but the food’s great. There are just not a lot of choices out here. This place does a mean mahi-mahi fish taco if you want something different.”

“It’s fine.” Taylor got out of the car and waited for Jesse on the sidewalk. “You forgot your hat.”

He took her arm and led her into the restaurant. “I’m off duty, so it stays in the car.”

“Jesse, hold on a second.” Taylor paused at the door. She searched his face, looking for an answer without asking the question. “Is this a date?”

His face didn’t change, no flicker of amusement or horror. His grip tightened a little on her arm. “Do you want it to be?”

She hesitated, her brain shouting no. But something else shouted yes. The question was whether it came from her heart, or her body. Did it matter?

“Relax; I didn’t ask you down here for a quickie. I think we need to talk about us.” Jesse waited.

She nodded. “Okay, then.” She walked through the door, feeling his presence so close behind her, and stopped in front of the hostess station.

The hostess led them to a secluded table near the window. “Our soup tonight is clam chowder. Our special is stuffed pork chop.” She sat the menus on the table and left.

“My flight leaves tomorrow at noon.” Taylor studied the menu.

“I’m heading out around the same time. Barb has me scheduled for interviews first thing in the morning, so no getting me drunk and taking advantage of me.”

Her head shot up. Jesse wasn’t looking at her, his head bent, studying the menu. She looked around the room and lowered her voice. “I didn’t get you drunk.”

“If that’s your story,” he said, looking up and grinning at her. The waitress arrived with water and took their drink order.

“Iced tea with lemon,” Taylor announced. The two beers at the rodeo had already loosened her tongue too much. Soon, she’d be telling Jesse about her childhood and the numerous summer camps she’d attended. And how she was plotting with Mike to keep him from buying the gallery.

“Root beer for me.”

They gave the waitress their food order as well. When she left, the table fell quiet.

Taylor set down the knife she’d been playing with. “Root beer?”

He shrugged. “I like it. What can I say? I’m a simple kind of guy.”

She studied the man sitting in front of her. “So, you got me here; what did you want to say?”

The direct approach surprised him, she could tell. But he pulled himself up, squared his shoulders, and started. “I like you, Taylor. I mean, you’re smart, funny, absolutely gorgeous, and I like spending time with you. You’re the first thing I think of when I get up and the last thing I think of before I go to sleep.” He paused and a sheepish smile crossed his face. “Not in a dirty way. Well, maybe a little.”

She slapped his arm. “Jesse, you were winning points until that last bit. You need to learn when to shut up.”

“Barb tells me that all the time.” He grabbed a roll and tossed it to her. “Eat, you’re grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy,” Taylor said. She cut open the crusty warm bread and slathered butter on the inside. She took a bite, and watched as Jesse did the same with his roll. She thought about her conversation with Barb earlier. “You and Barb are close?”

“Yeah, but not in that way, if you’re wondering. I had a huge crush on her when we were in high school, but she was older, and she and Lizzie, that’s my brother’s wife, were friends.” He finished the rest of the roll in one bite. “She always saw me as James’s little brother—even years later. Someone burned her badly, so for years, I don’t think she even dated.”

“Then she met Hunter, and he swept her off her feet?” Taylor asked.

“Kind of. She and Hunter have an interesting story. You’ll have to ask her to tell you someday.”

Taylor lifted her eyebrows. “You could tell me.”

“Barb and Hunter were married before they fell in love. Kind of by accident.” He shook his head. “Anyway, not my story to tell. Just wanted you to know that there wasn’t ever anything going on between me and Barbie.”

Taylor thought about Jesse’s declaration. When the waitress brought their dinners, a T-bone for Jesse, salmon for her, she took a bite and then set her knife and fork down next to her plate.

“Uh oh, this can’t be good.” Jesse eyed his steak, then matched her movements and set his own flatware on the table. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“You think we should date?” She knew she was being blunt, and maybe obtuse, but the more direct she was, the better answers she got. Good or bad.

Jesse nodded his head and his lips curled into a grin. “Yep. I think we should date. Like tonight. Dinner, maybe a walk by the river, maybe a kiss.”

“There’s a river here?”

“You’re missing the point. And I was making that part up, so I don’t really know if there’s a river. I would like to court you, Miss DeMarco.” He reached over and took her hand. “What do you think? Are you even remotely interested?”

She felt like laughing, crying, or screaming, “Yes!” But Mike’s face kept popping into her mind. And visions of the gallery. Her gallery. She wanted to be the owner, not just another manager, easily replaced. But that was tomorrow’s worry. Tonight, a handsome man was interested in her. And she would enjoy the ride until it came to a screeching halt.

“I am interested, Mr. Sullivan, provided we take it slow, one day at a time.”

“You make me sound like an addiction.” Jesse picked up his knife and fork, slicing into the meat. He stabbed a piece onto his fork and showed her the gentle pink inside. “Perfect; medium rare.”

She took a bite of her own dinner and wondered about her choice of words. Being near the man made her feel higher than any alcohol. The feeling was more intense than the time she had her appendix taken out and they’d sent her home with hydrocodone for the pain. Eventually, she’d stopped taking the pills. They’d invaded her dreams, making her run from nightmare monsters and painful emotions. Yes, being around Jesse Sullivan felt like a drug. And if she wasn’t careful, she’d be homeless and out of work, like many of the addicted.

• • •

Jesse loved watching Taylor. The way she ate. The way she walked. And most important, the way she gave in to emotion when she laughed, her head thrown back, and her entire body a part of the experience.

He hadn’t known exactly what to say when he had invited her to fly out for the rodeo. He just knew that there were too many miles between them, and he felt the distance like a concrete wall blocking their progress.

With dinner finished, he drove them back to the hotel. His room was on the same floor as Taylor’s, so he walked her to her door. She swiped her card into the mechanical lock multiple times, with no luck. Stepping closer, he took the card from her. Putting two fingers on her chin, he pulled up her head and brushed the hair out of her face. He dropped his head down to meet hers and kissed her. His body reacted to the possibilities of the slow, soft kiss. He pulled away, finding her as breathless as he felt.

“Let me get that door,” he said, his voice husky, betraying his desire. He swiped the card again, and this time the light turned from amber to a bright green. He opened the door for her and handed her the key.

“Come in.” She took a step in, hesitating. “If you want to.”

Jesse stood there and looked at her body. “You haven’t heard a damn thing I’ve said all night, have you?”

“Of course I have.”

He followed her into the room and watched as she tried to pull her boots off. He walked over and kneeled in front of her. He slowly pulled off one boot, then the other, his hand tracing imaginary lines down the inside of her calves. “I don’t think so.”

“What? What are you getting at?” Her voice sounded slightly tense. He smiled and looked up at her.

“I want to be here. To be with you. Why is that so hard to understand?” He sat next to her on the king size bed.

“I’m needy, what can I say?” Taylor laughed off Jesse’s question.

“I doubt it.” He took her hand, kissing the palm. The heat of her body next to his made him shiver. “You are amazing, successful, and beautiful. I don’t think you need anything. I just have to make you want me.”

“Hold up, cowboy.” Taylor stood and walked away from the bed. Leaning against the dresser, she crossed her arms. “What happened last night?”

Jesse leaned back on the bed. “You’re kidding, right?”

Her face flushed. “Stop playing games. Did we sleep together, or not?”

Jesse held out his hands. “Come here.”

Taylor looked at him like he was holding a live snake. “Jesse …”

He interrupted her, “Just come closer.”

Hesitantly, she walked to him, and he took both of her hands in his. He stood to meet her. “We did sleep together last night.” He saw her cringe, but pushed on anyway. “Only sleep. I didn’t want our first time to be alcohol induced. I want you to want me, not just drunken sex.”

The relief on her face almost made him laugh, but a part of him wondered why it would have been so awful for her. He released one of her hands and caressed her cheek with his fingers.

“I didn’t remember,” she admitted to him. “If you haven’t guessed by now, I’m a control freak and it scared me that I didn’t remember.”

“And that’s why you came today.” Jesse tucked a wayward strand of her blond hair behind her ear.

“One reason.” She searched his face. “I don’t know where this is going.”

“Do we have to know tonight?” He tipped his head and let his lips gently touch the curve of her neck. He felt her shiver.

“One day at a time?” she asked breathlessly.

He spun her around, and they fell on the bed. “One moment at a time.”

Their gazes locked, and when she nodded, he kissed her. Hard and demanding this time. Her lips were like diving into a shimmering pool on a hot summer day. Pulling back, he ran his hand down the curve of her cheek. The curve he couldn’t seem to get right, even after drawing it over and over. He felt his body tighten as he looked at her. Right then, he knew if all he had was this one time, it would all be worth it.

He felt her hands unbuttoning his shirt as he focused on her neck, drinking in the smell of her—clean, floral, and all Taylor. He’d know if she was in a crowded room just by the traces of her scent that followed her as she moved. He moved his hand to her shirt; the neckline falling open, making room for his fingers to slip inside, feeling the lace of her bra. Soft pillows of flesh greeted his hand, and he groaned, his mouth still on her neck, vibrating the skin under his lips.