The Devil Inside (9 page)

He reached over and put his hand over hers, holding it still on top of the yarn. “Sam, no one would blame you for having some, well, issues about bullriding. But that doesn’t mean there’s a conspiracy going on here. Accidents happen. I just happened to get caught up in one, and you happened to be there.”

“No one’s calling it a conspiracy.” She pulled her hand away and stood up. “But think about it. You said yourself that the ride seemed different to you. I just did a little searching for answers.”

“I’ve never been in a bullriding accident that bad before. Of course it would seem a little rougher.”

“Still.”

“Sam.” He leaned forward, his eyes warm. “I appreciate it, I really do. I just don’t want you to worry.”

She shook her head. “Too late.”

Well, that had gone swimmingly.

Cody watched Sam stalk out of the room, muttering something about stubborn men. She looked about ready to spit nails. And really, he didn’t blame her.

He’d handled that completely wrong.

It was embarrassing to admit, but he’d been acting like she was still the same girl he’d known years ago, the one who’d always been more than happy to agree to whatever he’d said. After all, he was older, more mature, and she’d had a touch of hero worship going on.

Conceited, maybe, but true.

So who would blame him for expecting he’d be able to talk her out of this crazy idea?

After all, it had always worked in the past.

That was his big mistake. They weren’t living in the past. And Sam wasn’t the same teenager with a crush he’d known years ago.

No, she was far more independent. Mature. Stubborn, if you wanted to get right down to it.

And despite the frustration that came with trying to deal with someone clearly unwilling to budge, he had to admit that she was far more interesting now, too.

Because though a case of puppy love could be a boost to the ego, it got uncomfortable after a while.

Just like he’d learned to avoid the buckle bunnies more interested in his status as a bullrider than who he was as an individual.

The door flew open again and there she was, a stack of papers clutched in one hand.

“Hey, Sam,” he said once his heart rate went back down, not sure what reaction he would get from her.

“Here.” She thrust the papers at him, barely waiting for him to grab them before she let go. “Read these.”

He looked down at the top sheet. It was a print out of an Internet article on, of course, bulls and steroids.

He’d heard the rumors about steroid use, of course, but figured it was such a remote possibility that he hadn’t paid attention. “I’ll take a look at them,” he promised.

She stood next to the bed, arms crossed over her chest. And waited.

“Oh, come on, Sam.” He shook his head. “I can’t focus if you’re standing over me. I’ll read them, really.”

“Thanks.” She turned to go, but he reached out and touched her arm.

“Later.”

“What?”

“I’ll read them later. Right now, I’d rather talk for a little bit, if you’ve got a moment.”

“Talk about what?”

“I don’t know.” He hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. “I guess it just occurred to me that we don’t know that much about each other anymore. And since you now know all my dark secrets…”

She glanced at the yarn. “Uh-huh.”

“So turnabout is fair play, right?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What, exactly, would you call turnabout, Cody?”

“Just a little conversation. Stay with me for a while.” He let his hand slide down her arm, enjoying the sensation far more than he should. “Please.”

She sucked in a breath, clearly not as immune to his touch as she wanted him to believe. With a nod, she sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed.

“So what’s on your mind?”

Currently? The instant, white-hot desire that shot through him the moment she sat down. He was pretty sure, however, that mentioning it to her right now would be a conversation-ender.

He knew she wanted him. Maybe as much as he wanted her. She just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

“You.”

Sure enough, she stiffened, her posture going ramrod straight in a matter of seconds. It was no more than he’d expected. The woman had been a challenge from the moment he’d arrived in her apartment.

“I was just curious about your life. You were a kid last time we saw each other. What have you been up to for the last thirteen years?”

“What do you want to know? The Cliff’s Notes version, or all the tiny details?”

“As much as you want to tell me.” And he meant it. He’d always been interested in her, both inside and out, and now was no exception. He wanted to know what was important in her life, what made her tick, what was still the same about the girl he’d known so long ago.

Struck by a sudden thought, he asked, “Do you still ride?”

She smiled a little wistfully. “Not for years.”

“That’s too bad.” He meant it, too. She’d always seemed more comfortable in the saddle than anywhere else.

“Yeah, well.” She shrugged one shoulder. “After we moved into town, it got too complicated, what with boarding and all. Plus Mom was too busy to drive me out to the ranch more than a couple of times a month. I hated leaving Ginger to waste out there, so we sold her.”

And that still bothered her. It was clear in the slump of her shoulders, the tenseness bracketing her mouth. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I know how much you loved to ride.”

“I was a kid.”

“To be honest, I was always surprised I never saw you on the circuit. You would have been one hell of a barrel racer.”

“I’d forgotten about that.” One corner of her mouth quirked up. “Every spare minute, we’d sneak out to the back fields. I was always afraid we were going to get caught.”

He smiled, too, remembering the times they’d spent far out of view of the house, so Sam could practice. “Especially since we kept moving the hay bales. I can’t believe no one ever noticed.”

“I think my dad did. Every once in a while he’d say something, like how he was always forgetting where he’d left the hay bales, and then he’d wink at me.” She sighed. “I sometimes wish I’d had the guts to tell him I wanted to barrel race.”

“It wasn’t your dad you had to win over.”

Her laugh was short and tinged with bitterness. “Mom was a lost cause when it came to the rodeo.”

“I think even she would have been impressed if she’d ever seen you race.”

“I wasn’t that great.”

“The hell you weren’t. You were fearless.” He captured her hand with his and gave it a squeeze. “And fast.”

“That’s what scared my mom.” She laced her fingers with his, her eyes gazing into the distance. “And why I had to hide what we were doing. If she’d ever known I wanted to take after my dad, competing in the rodeo, she would have gone ballistic. After the accident, it was a moot point anyway. We moved into town within the month, and it was just easier to let it go.”

“Do you miss the ranch?”

“I did at first. Everything changed so fast.”

He nodded. “Your mom never did like it out there, did she?”

Sam shook her head. “She was much happier in town. Well, after she got over…you know.”

“And she remarried?”

“About six years ago. Fred’s an accountant.”

Cody threw his head back and laughed. “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?”

An unwilling smile tugged at Sam’s mouth. “Be nice,” she admonished. “Fred’s a good guy.”

“And about as far from a bullrider as your mom could get without picking someone in a coma,” he retorted.

“Well, there is that.” She rolled her eyes. “Now she’s trying to find an accountant for me.”

The thought of Sam with someone else raised his hackles. “And what do you think about that?”

She shuddered. “No comment.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “We’ll make a rebel out of you yet.”

“You have no idea.”

“What about the riding?”

She glanced at him. “What about it?”

“Why not start riding again now? Unless I’m mistaken, you’re not living with your mother anymore. And I’m assuming you have a driver’s license, so you could certainly get yourself to and from the stables.”

She rolled her eyes. “Like I have the time.”

“It’s all a matter of priorities,” he argued, though he couldn’t have said why, exactly, it was so important to him that she get back in the saddle again. “And you know you loved it.”

“I did, didn’t I?” She tucked a strand of her hair behind one ear, making his fingers itch to do the same. “Funny how time and distance changes the way you remember things. I’d completely forgotten how important riding was to me back then.”

“When I thought of you over the years, I never pictured you away from horses.”

She didn’t say anything, just blushed and looked away.

Time to change the subject, he decided. “So how did you go from future barrel racer to EMT?”

Sam shrugged, tracing the pattern on the comforter with the tip of her finger. It danced dangerously close to his thigh, then slipped away again. “It sounds a little silly, but it was because of my dad.”

He nodded, encouraging her to go on.

“When he got thrown, they were the first on the scene. I remember watching them work so hard to save him, even when everyone else would have said it was hopeless. Even though they didn’t succeed, it meant a lot to me that they didn’t give up.”

“And do you work the rodeo every year?” He felt vaguely disturbed at the thought of her being in the same location and never making the effort to at least say hi.

“Oh, no.” She shook her head emphatically. “Never.”

Slightly mollified, he said, “What changed your mind this year?”

“Chief Branson.”

He must have looked confused, because she went on. “He’s my boss. I’m trying to get into a new training program, and working the rodeo was a precondition to his approval.”

“Why?”

She pulled a face. “Because my avoidance of the rodeo was becoming an issue. I needed to prove I could get beyond my dad’s accident and work in that venue without falling apart.”

“Still hard for you, isn’t it.” It was more a statement of fact, not a question, but she answered it anyway.

“It’s well-known in town that I haven’t set foot in the rodeo since my dad died.”

Damn. He knew that watching her father’s accident had to have been traumatic for her, but that reaction was more than he’d expected.

She’d loved it so much back when they were kids.

“So how was it? Being back, after so many years.”

“I survived.”

Glancing at the Internet printouts lying next to him, Cody said softly, “So did I.”

She closed her eyes. “I know.”

It was clear that she was ready for the conversation to be over. “How about I take a look at these now?”

She looked at him, gratitude shining in her eyes. “Thank you.”

“You bet.”

She left the room then, taking with her the empty glass on the nightstand. Cody watched her go, continuing to stare thoughtfully at the doorway long after she’d disappeared down the hall.

Yeah, they’d both changed over the years. But damned if he wasn’t enjoying getting to know her all over again.

Chapter Nine

“Cody. Are you awake?”

Cody pried his eyes open, squinting at the face swimming above him. Stupid pain meds. “Morning already, huh?” He squinted at the digital clock on the nightstand. “I understand that in some cultures this could be considered morning.”

“Dr. Miller’s stopping by before heading to the hospital for rounds. It’s the only time he can make house calls.”

“Oh, I’m not objecting,” Cody said. “I like the whole idea of medical personnel coming to you. I’m just a bit tired.”

“I’m not surprised.” She shook her head. “You were up late last night.”

“So were you.”

Sam shrugged. “With my schedule, you get used to surviving on little to no sleep."

"Better you than me."

"You’d better use the facilities before Dr. Miller gets here.” She nodded toward the bathroom. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He waited until she was gone before getting out of bed. Thank God he wasn’t on full bed rest; the thought of Sam dealing with his bed pans sent a shudder of horror down his spine. Five minutes later he was back in bed, teeth brushed for good measure as well.

Sam entered the room just as he was crawling back under the covers, which gave him a whole bunch of ideas that were probably not in anyone’s best interests to pursue at the moment. But damned if he didn’t want to invite her to crawl in with him.

He’d liked her back when they were kids, first as friends, then that little spark of something more. He’d never acted on it, of course, because she was too young.

Now age wasn’t an issue anymore. And the spark was back, stronger than ever.

“Can I get you anything before Dr. Miller shows up?” She straightened the sheets again, leaning over him to reach the opposite side of the bed.

Cody reached up. “Just this.”

He’d meant it to be only a thank you kiss. Something short and sweet.

That was before their lips met.

This time, there was no hesitation. She opened hungrily to him, her tongue darting out to meet his as she thrust her hands into his hair.

Holding her head steady with one hand, sliding the other down to the small of her back, Cody leaned back onto the mattress. Sam, clinging to him with her hands and lips, followed him down so that she was half leaning, half lying on top of him. It felt better than he expected, and he was doubly glad that his injuries were starting to heal. Her soft breasts pillowed against his chest, and they both moaned low in their throats at the contact.

Their lips clung, and parted, and met again, dueling together in searing passion. His tongue thrust in and out, over and over, in a blatant imitation of making love that kept Sam pressed tight against him. She ran one hand down his side, curving over his hip in a possessive gesture that sent blood charging to his already-hardened cock. Wordlessly, he urged her over him, tugging at her hips to encourage her to straddle him.

Both of them sighed as their bodies met fully, his cock pressed hard against her soft belly. He tilted upward experimentally, growling against her mouth as she met him stroke for stroke.