Blazing Bedtime Stories, Volume VIII: The Cowboy Who Never Grew Up

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“I wouldn’t lay any bets on that.”

“What are you saying? That he’s never coming out?”

“I’m saying, sugar dumpling, that he already came out. About a half hour ago.”

“What?” Her gaze swiveled to the barn, then back to Eli. “No way. I’ve been standing here for the past hour. I would have seen him.”

“Not if you’re too busy yapping.”

“I wasn’t yapping. That was you.”

“Oh, yeah. Let me rephrase that—” He fed Tinkerbell another bit of cookie. “You probably didn’t notice on account of you were too busy being captivated by all my yapping.” He seemed to stop and listen. “So much so that Pete made it all the way into the shower and you didn’t notice a thing.”

“You’re saying he’s in the house?” She pointed to the massive structure. “This house? In the shower?” She didn’t wait for a reply. She snatched up the second set of contracts and marched inside.

Upstairs, she followed the sound of spraying water down the massive hallway, into the far wing of the house. Sure enough, she soon found herself in a man’s bedroom, a familiar pair of boots kicked into the far corner.

Pete was in the shower, all right. Meanwhile, she’d been standing around outside, waiting for him.

The man had no manners. Worse, he had no sense of responsibility.

That’s what her head told her. He was a wild child who had his priorities twisted.

Her heart, however, said something altogether different. Like, maybe, for whatever reason, Pete Gunner was dodging her on purpose because he really didn’t want to sign.

She remembered the way he’d eyed the contracts, the push-pull of emotion in that split second before his it’s-all-good mask had slid back into place.

Not that it mattered. She hadn’t come all this way to go back empty-handed. If he didn’t want to sign he should never have accepted in the first place. He’d done just that and she meant to see that he followed through.

The sound of running water pulled her closer until she stood inches away from the bathroom door.

She thought about knocking. She really did. But judging by what had been happening, she couldn’t help but think that he might crawl out the window if he got any advance notice that she was on to him.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she pushed open the door and walked inside. The bathroom was huge with wall-to-wall tile and an open shower in the far corner. Steam filled the bathroom and coated it with a mist that made her feel sticky and hot.

She opened her mouth, but the words lodged in her throat as her gaze riveted on the very naked backside of Pete Gunner.

Water sluiced over his shoulders, running in rivers down his corded back, his toned buttocks. Her brain registered the absence of tan lines and immediately she had a vision of him completely naked, riding a single rope out over a cool lake on a hot summer’s day.

He turned to the side and gave her a magnificent view of his profile.

Rubbing a bar of soap between his hands, he spread the lather over his chest, his six-pack abs and down over the sprinkle of hair that led to his crotch. His penis was thick and strong, surrounded by a swirl of silky hair.

Her mouth went dry and her heart stalled. She should say something. He was naked, for heaven’s sake! Even more, she wasn’t the kind of woman who stood around lusting after naked men.

Then again, she didn’t get the opportunity very often, and as much as she tried to remember this wasn’t what she’d come for, she just couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away.

He was all hard muscle and raw strength and she could feel her body responding in ways that had nothing to do with her eagerness for him to sign the papers and everything to do with raw desire. Her heart pounded and her hands trembled.

“Enjoying the view?”

At the sexy drawl, her attention snapped back to his face and her gaze locked with his. A lazy grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“I …” She swallowed, desperate to find her suddenly shy voice. Get a grip, Darlington. “You still need to sign these …” The request didn’t come out nearly the way she’d rehearsed over the past several hours. There was no commanding note in her voice. No air of authority. Not even a plea of desperation. Instead, the words were choked and soft and almost an afterthought.

“You are enjoying the view.” He grinned. “Don’t worry. So am I.”

“But I’ve got my clothes on.”

“Doesn’t matter.” His gaze fixed on her chest and she glanced down to see that all the steam had made her white silk blouse practically transparent. “You’ve got beautiful nipples, sugar.”

A rush of heat went through her and she glanced down to see one traitorous bud peaking through the lace of her bra, perfectly outlined by the see-through silk.

She stiffened, determined not to turn tail and run despite the fact that he was staring at her as if he wanted to take a great big bite.

And even more, she was feeling as though she wanted him to do just that.

She stiffened and tried to gather her control. “I need the contracts signed.”

“I’m afraid we had a little accident.”

“I thought as much.” She held up the second set. “Just sign already and let’s get this over with.” She swallowed. “Please.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“You don’t get your money.”

“I doubt concern for my financial well-being brought you three hundred miles out of your way.” His gaze darkened. “And straight into a naked man’s bathroom. What really happens if I don’t sign?”

She wasn’t going to tell him. It wasn’t his business. At the same time, the words sprang to her lips and she couldn’t help herself. “I lose my job.”

He killed the water and reached for a towel. Before she could take a much-needed breath, he was standing right in front of her. “You should stop worrying so much. It ages you.”

The teasing light in his eyes made her forget all about the papers and the pink slip waiting for her should she fail. “You’re the second person who’s told me that today.” He arched an eyebrow and she added, “Eli said the same thing.”

“Great minds,” he murmured. “It’s just a job.”

“It’s my job and I happen to like it.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been there for nine years and I want to be there another nine years. I like Houston. I like being in one place. I like having friends.” Now why had she said that?

Because it was true and there was just something about his compelling gaze that drew the words from her.

“Houston’s nice,” he murmured, “but I like Dallas better. And Vegas. And Nashville.”

“You really like being on the go that much?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, something flitted across his expression and she got the instant feeling that he wasn’t half as content with his lifestyle as he wanted everyone to think.

“I like being a rodeo cowboy,” he finally said.

“An irresponsible rodeo cowboy.” She held up the extra copy she’d brought. “Or so you want everyone to think, which is why you don’t want to sign these papers.”

His brows drew together into a tight frown. “What are you talking about?”

“You let me believe you were drinking margaritas this morning.” She wasn’t sure why she called him out except that she was tired of playing games. “It was a vitamin slushie.”

“Like hell.”

“You also didn’t want to tell me that you had a Yorkie named Tinkerbell. You’re this big, bad, supposedly irresponsible guy who doesn’t care about anyone or anything, yet you’ve got a house full of guys living here and you keep Eli gainfully employed when he has to be the most annoying man I’ve ever met. You’re also getting your ass kicked up on that bull, but you don’t want to admit it—or any of the above—to anyone because you’re afraid it’s going to kill your image. That’s why you don’t want to sign. Because signing would be the responsible thing to do.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“Prove me wrong, then,” she countered. “Right here and now.”

Just like that, his gaze darkened as if she’d stripped off her clothes and pressed herself up against his wet body.

“What do I get if I do?”

“Fame and fortune.”

“I’ve already got both.”

“You’ll get more.”

“What if I want something else instead?”

“As in?”

The seconds ticked by as he stared down at her. He looked almost hesitant. A glimmer lit his eyes as if he wanted to say something. But then the light faded into a dark, smoldering blue as his attention settled on her mouth. “A kiss might just do the trick.”

“You want me to kiss you and then you’ll sign?”

“That, or I can just kiss you.” And then he did just that.

He dipped his head. His mouth caught hers in a plundering kiss that took her breath away. His deep, musky scent filled her nostrils. His body heat drew her closer. Her nipples tightened and an ache started between her legs. And she couldn’t help herself. She leaned into him, molding herself to his hard frame despite the fact that he was soaking wet. The alarm bells in her head faded into the pounding of her own heart, and suddenly there were just the two of them and the kiss.

A kiss that quickly morphed into something softer and more persuasive when she wrapped her arms around his neck and angled her head to give him better access. His arms slid around her waist, drawing her even closer. His tongue swept her bottom lip and dipped inside, stroking and coaxing and drawing a raw moan from deep in her throat.

It was a kiss like no other, and just when she was really getting into it, he drew back.

He stared down at her, his breathing hard, his blue eyes dark and unreadable, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. The look faded quickly, however, into a teasing light.

He grinned and reached around to pat her on the ass cheek.

The sudden motion jolted her from the daze of the passionate kiss and she came to her senses. “Are you going to sign the papers now?” she managed to say with stiff lips.

“Can’t.” He shook his head, staring down at the contracts which had landed in a puddle of water at his feet. “I’m afraid they’re ruined.” And then he waltzed past her and headed for the adjoining bedroom. “On the bright side, we’ve got a hell of a party ahead of us so the night isn’t a complete bust.”

The slam of a door punctuated his words and she was left standing in the steamy bathroom, staring at the soggy papers on the floor.

A party?

Did he really think a party was even in the realm of possibility with her future hanging in the balance?

That would have been her father’s solution for just such a problem. He never worried too much about anything. Instead, he would have hit the nearest bar to show the world that no matter what the breaks, he was still baseball’s favorite rowdy boy.

No way was she waltzing outside to watch Pete and his cretin friends feed the rumor mill that already surrounded them. She was a professional and it was high time she started acting like one. He’d toyed with her enough and no wonder. Every time he looked at her, she forgot all about her job and morphed into another one of the countless buckle bunnies who melted at the first touch.

Distance. That’s what she needed.

She needed to get on her cell, have another contract sent out ASAP, and then call a cab. She would check herself into the nearest motel and wait him out. He had to sign eventually.

And if he didn’t?

She forced aside the thought. He would. However wild and reckless, he hadn’t made it to the top of the PBR heap by being stupid. The deal was a good move, particularly since she knew beyond a doubt that Pete wasn’t as young and wild as he wanted everyone to think.

As young and wild as he wanted to think.

She’d seen the flash in his eyes when she’d called him out. She’d hit a nerve, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

He would. He was taking a beating and it was just a matter of time before it caught up to him.

In the meantime, she was going to establish some boundaries and show Pete Gunner that at least one of them could behave responsibly. And she wasn’t—repeat was not—going to think about his kiss and the fact that she’d liked it a lot more than she should have.

She’d seen too many women fall for her father and get their hearts broken as a result.