Mira grinned and put her hand on her belly. “Only a few more weeks until you can call me mama.”
“I call her mama already.” Chase’s voice was affectionate and warm, and he looked at Mira as if she was his entire world.
It was so intimate between them, with no room for a third party. Taylor stepped back, her hands falling down to her sides as she abandoned her hug. What had she done coming here? Why had she thought nothing would change now that Mira had found Chase?
But Mira didn’t hesitate, throwing her arms around Taylor and hugging her just as tightly as she ever had.
Tears filled Taylor’s eyes and she hugged Mira back just as fiercely, all her fears melting away. “I missed you,” she whispered, her throat tightening up. God, she hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been since Mira had moved away, but being with her friend again made her viscerally aware of how empty her life was when she wasn’t burying herself in her work.
“I missed you, too, Taylor,” Mira replied, pulling back.
Reluctantly, Taylor released her. “How are you doing? You feeling okay?” She glanced at Chase. “Is he being good to you?” she asked in a mock stage whisper.
Mira laughed, her eyes lighting up with happiness. “Everything is great. What about you?”
Taylor glanced at Chase with his arm around Mira again, and she knew now wasn’t the time for her to start crying on Mira’s shoulder. So, she managed a flippant smile. “Everything is awesome. I finished my latest assignment early, so I wanted to come early to help out. I figured you could use another hand getting things ready for the wedding and the baby.”
“Of course! You’re always welcome.” The genuine warmth in Mira’s voice eased some of Taylor’s rising tension and sense of isolation. “I’ll put you to work in the morning. Where are you staying?”
“Where am I—?” Taylor felt heat rush to her cheeks. It hadn’t even occurred to her to find a hotel. She’d just assumed that she’d stay here, but she quickly realized what a mistake that had been. “I—”
“Oh, stay with us,” Mira said quickly, her face softening as she astutely picked up on Taylor’s situation. “Our basement guest room is full of boxes we retrieved from my parent’s house and haven’t unpacked yet, and the first floor bedroom now has a crib in it, but you could sleep in the living room.”
Taylor felt her heart sinking. Sleep on the couch? In their space? She knew she’d feel like she was intruding every second she was there. “That’s okay. I’ll just—”
“Or the bunkhouse,” Mira interrupted, her face brightening as she thought of it. She and Chase exchanged a special smile that once again made Taylor feel like she was standing on the periphery. “Is it ready for her, Chase?”
He nodded. “I had it cleaned after Steen and Erin moved out. It’s all set.”
Taylor frowned, trying to follow the conversation. “Steen and Erin? Who are they?”
“Oh, you’ll love them,” Mira said, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “Steen is Chase’s brother, and Erin is his fiancée. They’re building a house and a vet clinic on the south side of the property. They were living in the bunkhouse, but they moved to a trailer home next to their house so they have a little privacy while it’s being built. Erin is such a doll. You’ll love her.”
“Oh.” Taylor cleared her throat at the obvious affection in Mira’s voice. Clearly, she and Erin had become close friends, and they were almost sisters now if Erin was engaged to Chase’s brother. Taylor clasped her hands behind her head, suddenly wishing that she’d arranged for a hotel room. This wasn’t what she’d envisioned at all. “I’m sure we’ll get along great,” she managed.
“Of course you will.” Mira yawned, and Taylor realized she was overstaying her welcome.
“So, I’ll just let you guys do your thing,” she said, taking her cue to leave. “If you can point me to the bunkhouse, I’ll go set up there.”
“I’ll take your bags down there,” Chase said, reaching for a weather-beaten trench coat that looked like it was built for storms like the one howling outside.
“Oh, no. I’m all set. I don’t have much—”
“You’re not going out alone,” Chase said, his voice mellow but unyielding. “I’ve got you covered.”
Taylor’s throat suddenly tightened, and she had to look away and blink several times. God, how long had it been since someone had done something as simple as heading outside in a driving rainstorm to help her with her bags? She didn’t even know Chase, but he made her feel like she mattered. How had Mira found someone this wonderful? She hadn’t even realized men like Chase existed.
“Do you want to snag some food to take with you?” Mira asked. “I don’t think there’s anything there.” Before Taylor could answer, she was already heading to the kitchen. “I think I have some coffee you’ll like,” she called out as she opened cabinets. “And of course, your oatmeal for breakfast. And I have some leftover chicken that Chase grilled tonight,” she said, yawning again. “I’m so sorry that I can’t stay up with you. I just get so tired.”
“It’s totally fine,” Taylor said. “I should have called first.” God, she should have called. She’d had visions of sitting up on the couch for hours with ice cream and hot chocolate while they caught up. She hadn’t thought about how things would be different, and she should have.
Chase shoved a cowboy hat on his head while Mira handed Taylor a grocery bag. She hugged Taylor again, a fierce hug that soothed some of Taylor’s tension. “I’m so glad you’re here, Taylor.”
“Me, too.” The tightness around her chest loosened slightly at Mira’s sincerity. “I’ll see you in the morning. You can come grab me when you’re ready for company, okay? I don’t want to barge in on you twice.”
Mira smiled. “Deal.”
Chase walked over to Mira, locked his arm around her waist, and pulled her close for an almost unbearably sweet kiss. “I’ll be right back. Don’t have the baby while I’m gone.”
Mira laughed and lightly swatted his chest. “You’ll have to take it up with the baby, not me.”
He leaned forward and put his ear to her belly, as if he were listening. Then he nodded. “The baby says that I’m in charge. He says he’ll wait.”
Mira’s eyebrows shot up. “She’ll do what she wants.”
He shot her a cocky look. “We’ll see.”
A part of Taylor wanted to put her ear to Mira’s belly and listen to the baby as well, but another part of her wanted to slink away from the intimacies that she wasn’t a part of and hop on the next plane out of town. She did neither. She was too tired to leave, and too uncertain to reach out and slap her palm across her best friend’s belly. So she just smiled. “See you in the morning, Mira.”
“You bet!” At Mira’s wave, Taylor ducked out into the rain, no longer caring that she was soaked and covered in mud. She just wanted a moment to regroup and figure out where she could fit into her best friend’s new life.
There had to be a place, right? Because if there wasn’t, she had no one else.
God, that was a great thought. Surely she could muster up a more positive attitude. She could get a cat. Or a goldfish. A fish would be a good listener, right?
But as she slogged through the mud, following Chase to her car, she knew there was no way to deny the truth: fish were slimy, and if she had to rely on one to be her dearest friend…well…that was just not a good solution.
She shook her head, unable to shake the isolation that was beginning to grip her. What was she going to do?
***
He was tired.
He was cranky.
He was wet.
Zane Stockton idled his motorcycle outside his brother’s ranch house, narrowing his eyes at the darkened windows. Gone was the time when he’d let himself in and crash. There was a woman in there now, and that changed all the rules, especially when it was two in the morning.
He probably shouldn’t have come tonight, but he was here, and he was done being on the road
for now. Rain had been thundering down on him for hours, and he was drenched. He just wanted to sleep and forget about all the crap that had gone down today. Grief was gnawing at him, the kind of grief that he had to escape, the kind that would destroy him if he let it.
Which was why he’d come to the ranch. It was the only place in his life, besides the open road, where the noise in his head quieted long enough for him to think.
Trying not to rev the engine too much, he eased his bike down the driveway and turned right into the lean-to beside the bunkhouse. He settled his bike and whipped out a couple towels to clean it off, making sure it was mud-free before calling it a night.
Task accomplished, he grabbed his bag from the back of the bike, scowling when he realized it had gotten wet. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered now except crashing. He sloshed through the puddles toward the front door of the bunkhouse, retrieved the key from the doorframe, and pried the thing open.
It was pitch dark inside, but he knew his way around and didn’t bother with a light. He dropped the bag, kicked off his boots and his drenched clothes, then headed for the only bed that was still set up in the place after Steen and Erin’s brief occupation of it. Zane was damn glad they’d upgraded their lodgings to a temporary mobile home so the bunkhouse was now available again for use by the family vagrant.
Zane jerked back the covers and collapsed onto the bed. The minute he landed, he felt the soft, very real feel of a body beneath him, including the swell of a woman’s breast beneath his forearm. Shit! “What the hell?” He leapt to his feet just as a woman shrieked and slammed a pillow into the side of his head.
“Hey, I’m not going to hurt you! I’m Chase’s brother!” He grabbed the pillow as it clocked him in the side of the head again. “Stop!”
There was a moment of silence, and all he could hear was heavy breathing. Then she spoke. “You’re Chase’s brother?” Her voice was breathless, and throaty, as if he’d awakened her out of a deep sleep, which he probably had. It sounded sexy as hell, and he was shocked to feel a rush of desire catapult through him.
Shit. He hadn’t responded physically to a woman in a long time, and now he’d run into a woman who could turn him on simply by speaking to him? Who the hell was she? “Yeah,” he said, sounding crankier than he intended. “Who are you?”
“You’re Steen?” He heard her fumbling for something, and he wondered if she was searching for a baseball bat, pepper spray, or something that indicated she hadn’t been nearly as turned on by his voice as he’d been by hers.
“No, a different brother,” he replied, his head spinning as he tried to figure what was going on, and why he was reacting to her so intensely. “I’m Zane. Harmless. Good guy. No need to decapitate me.”
There was a pause in her movements. “I wasn’t going to decapitate you. I was looking for my shirt.”
“Your shirt?” he echoed blankly. “You’re not wearing a shirt?” He hadn’t noticed that much bare skin for that brief moment he’d been on top of her. How had he missed it?
“I’m wearing a camisole, but it’s not exactly decent. Give me a sec.” A small laugh drifted through the darkness. “You’re such a guy. Of course you’d fixate on the possibility of me being naked. Do all men think only of sex?”
He grinned, relaxing. He’d startled her, but she’d regrouped quickly, and he liked that. She wasn’t a wimp who was running to the door screaming. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Taylor Shaw. I’m Mira’s best friend from home. I surprised her for a visit, but it turns out, there’s no space in the house.”
“Nope. Not anymore. I’m displaced too.” He suddenly wanted to see her. “You decent yet?”
“Yes, but barely—”
He reached over and flicked on the small light by the bed. The soft yellow glow was less harsh than the overhead light, but it still took his eyes a moment to adjust to the brightness. When they did, he saw Taylor sitting on the bed, curly blond hair tumbling around her shoulders in a disheveled mess that made her look completely adorable. Her eyes were a deep blue, fixed on him as she squinted against the sudden light. He could see the curve of her shoulders beneath her light pink, long-sleeved shirt. The faint outline of a white camisole was evident beneath her shirt, not quite obscuring the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her gray yoga pants were frayed at the knee and cuff, but they fit her hips with perfection. She looked like she’d just tumbled right out of a bed, and she was sexy as hell.
But it was her face that caught his attention. Her gaze was wary, but there was a vulnerability in it that made him want to protect her. He had zero protective instincts when it came to women…until now, until he’d met this woman who’d tried to defend herself with a pillow.
Then her gaze slid down his body, and his entire body went into heated overdrive. It wasn’t until her eyes widened in surprise when her gaze was at hip level that he remembered something very important.
He was naked.
Chapter 2
Taylor blinked in surprise as her gaze stopped just below Zane’s navel. He was naked.
“Shit. Sorry.” Zane grabbed the pillow she’d used on his head and slammed it in front of his crotch a split second before she managed to get a full eyeful. “I forgot.”
She jerked her attention off his muscular body, and back to his face, horrified that he’d caught her staring at him. She hadn’t meant to check him out. It was just that he was standing there, and he had amazing shoulders and her gaze had wandered, because what woman’s wouldn’t have, right? “It’s okay,” she said quickly. “Not a big deal.” Not a big deal. It wasn’t, of course, in the grand scheme of things. A naked man was a naked man, right? They all had the same body parts.
Except that Zane Stockton had taken the definition of man to an entirely new level. He was rippling with muscle, there were crisscrossed scars across the front of his right shoulder, and the dark hair on his chest angled down to a V where his hips narrowed. He was sculpted masculinity, and there was no way for her to lie to herself and pretend she hadn’t noticed.
“No?” He cocked a dark eyebrow at her. “Not even a little bit of a big deal?”
“Of course not.” She tried to keep her voice even, and her eyes on his face, but it was difficult. She’d never been around a man who exuded so much maleness. She could easily believe he was Chase’s brother after seeing how utterly masculine Chase had been. Unlike Chase, however, Zane felt dangerous and wild, a man who had never sat behind a desk or in a boardroom. The wolf tattoo on his right biceps looked like it had come from within him, instead of being penned on by someone else.
“Then you can have your pillow back.” He tossed it at her, and she caught it as he sauntered across the room toward a duffel bag on the floor.
She tried, she really tried, not to notice the way his back rippled with muscles as he walked away from her, and she really tried not to check out his butt. She almost succeeded, managing to sneak only a quick glance before finding a place on the wall to stare at blankly.
“I don’t care if you stare.” There was definite amusement in his voice as he grabbed a pair of boxer briefs from his duffel.
“I’d care if you were staring at me naked,” she pointed out, trying to justify her laser-like focus on the knot in the wall.
“Interesting thought.” His voice was low and husky, shivering across her skin like an invisible caress.
She shot an annoyed glare at him, and then relaxed when she saw that he was wearing his boxer briefs. The dark blue hid enough detail that she could face him. “Clearly, I have more manners than you do.”
Zane walked over to her, and she scrambled to her feet as he neared. He was barely dressed, and she didn’t want to be sprawled on the bed as he approached. “I have no manners at all,” he said. “I was raised in a shit hole, and I don’t clean up well.”
His tone was hard, daring her to challenge him, but she saw a spark of defiance in his dark eyes that made her heart soften. She had no doubt t
hat he was raised exactly as he’d just claimed. “I’m sorry.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Sorry for what?”
“That you were raised in a shit hole. No one deserves that.”
He stared at her for a long moment, so long that she wanted to squirm. She didn’t, however. Instead, she simply raised her chin.
Silence hung between them, suspended in the dimly lit cabin. Finally, he shrugged. “You want the wall side?”
She blinked. “What?”
He gestured at the bed. “Which side you do want?”
Her gaze snapped to the double bed, which was far smaller than the queen-size bed she had at home, or the king-size beds she always requested in her hotel rooms. “You’re going to sleep with me?”
“Yeah.”
She let out her breath, ignoring the warring factions inside her of joy and delight versus outrage and fury. “Why would you think that is a good choice?” Wow. She was impressed with how diplomatic she’d managed to sound. One might think she had years of experience with hellish bosses and nightmarish clients. Oh, wait, she had.
He ran his hand through his hair impatiently, drawing her attention to how damp it was. The dark hair was curling around the base of his neck, too long to be a cowboy or a corporate exec, but just long enough to belong to a troublemaker or a rebel. “Because I’ve been riding for hours. I’m wet. I’m tired. This is the only bed left in the bunkhouse or anywhere on the ranch. I’m getting in it, and you can sleep on the hard floor by yourself, or with me in the bed.”
A Real Cowboy Rides a Motorcycle Page 2
