by Tessa Layne
Travis flashed her a smile. “Let’s go.”
Oh yes, her panties sang. When he placed his hand at the small of her back again, thumb rubbing across her spine, a rush of heat flooded her, slicking what remained of the fabric between her legs.
Travis pulled a booster seat out of the trunk and placed it in the back. “Hop on in, kiddo. I’ll get you buckled.”
Dax bounded into the car, barely keeping still while Travis pulled the seatbelt across him.
“Do you want me to sit in the back with you, sweetie?”
Travis slid a look her direction. “He’ll be fine back here.”
“What if he gets scared?”
His eyebrows furrowed. “It’s only a few minutes. But we can stop.” He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, giving her a squeeze. “He’ll be fine.”
Her hands grew clammy.
She couldn’t sit up front with Travis. But the thought of sitting in the back of a police car again twisted her stomach in knots. She’d do it for Dax, though. “Dax?” He looked like he was having the time of his life in the back seat.
Travis’s voice cut through her confusion. “I’m gonna have your mom sit up front with me. Is that okay, buddy?”
Dax shrugged. “Sure.”
Great. Thrown under the bus by a seven-year-old. She slipped in the passenger door Travis held open for her, folding her hands close once she’d buckled herself in. She hadn’t missed the question in Travis’s eyes when she’d caught him staring at the scars on her arm earlier. Over the last two years, there were days she forgot they were there, a permanent and painful reminder of another life. A different Elaine. She made sure no one ever noticed them, but Travis never missed a detail, and she’d let her guard down, thrown off by Steve Lawson and Travis’s offer.
“What about you, Elaine?”
“Mmm?”
“When was the last time you were at a midway?”
She swallowed, avoiding his intense gaze. This isn’t an interrogation. Just conversation. She shrugged. “A long time. I don’t remember.” And she couldn’t. She’d blocked out so much of the past, she had a hard time even remembering the good things.
“So it’s like the first time for you, too.”
“Sure.” She liked that. A fresh start.
“Good thing I brought some of Mike McAllister’s root beers with me. We can enjoy them while we walk the midway.”
“I thought you had to work?”
“I do. But I have enough time before things get crazy, I’d like to show you around.”
Her pulse took off to the races. How could she concentrate with Travis right next to her? One whiff of his spicy cologne and she was reduced to a quivering mass of jello. But the worst part would be when he saw her meager ticket supply.
She’d brought enough tip money to buy two rolls of tickets, even though it would mean ramen and tuna helper for the next week. She wanted Dax to have fun, even if they could only pick a few rides. He’d been so serious since the tornado, and he was obviously excited right now. She missed his little boy laugh and his boundless energy.
Travis reached the ticket booth first, angling his body so she couldn’t step up with him. Elaine craned her neck trying to see, but he was too big. Her heart plummeted when he turned with a fistful of tickets and handed them to Dax. Dax’s eyes went wide with excitement.
She laid a hand on his arm, ignoring the heat that raced up her arm. “Travis.” She kept her voice low and firm. “I can’t let you do this. There’s no need.”
“There absolutely is.” His tone of voice brooked no argument. “First, if you’re going to come to the fairgrounds, you need to do everything. At least twice. And,” he shot her a slow, sexy grin. “It’s part of my plan to persuade you to be my treasurer.”
“By spoiling my son?”
“And you too.” He stroked the back of a finger down her cheek. Tingles cascaded straight to her core.
She had to say no. Needed to say no. For both their sakes. But the longer she spent with him, the weaker her resolve became.
“Please, mom?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. Dax looked so… hopeful. How could she say no to him when he looked at her with those big saucer eyes? She blew out a rough breath and nodded. “Fine. Just this once.” She looked between the two and covered a laugh. Travis wore the same excited smile as Dax.
Dax slipped his hand into Travis’s and dragged him in the direction of a target game. She could enjoy these few hours. For Dax. How could she deny the boy an evening of rides and too much sugar? He’d be talking about this for weeks.
“Mom, mom, mom,” Dax called as she caught up with them. “Lookie! Travis won me a Minion.”
She pressed her lips together to stop the grin from crawling across her face. “That didn’t take long.” Travis gave her a sheepish smile and a shrug as he handed her the big yellow creature. “I don’t know who’s more excited,” she laughed, unable to hold back any longer. “You or Dax.”
His eyes gleamed. “It might be a toss-up.”
Her heart hiccupped. He didn’t smile often. But when he did, it stopped her in her tracks.
Regret replaced the warmth in his eyes. “I have to take off, but meet me behind the scoreboard after the fireworks? You’ll see the patrol cars.” He squatted down in front of Dax, offering him a fist bump. “Thanks, buddy. I had fun. Now, make sure your mom has some fun?”
“Okey-dokey.”
“I’ll see you after the fireworks, ’kay?”
But Elaine wasn’t sure Dax heard. He was already dragging her away. “Mom, did you see? They have pony rides!”
When she peeked back over her shoulder, her stomach fluttered. He was still watching them.
Hours later, she and Dax made their way through the exiting throng to behind the scoreboard, stuffed with carnival food and pleasantly exhausted. A quick scan of the area showed no Travis. No Weston either. Her pulse quickened. Maybe she should go. She didn’t belong here.
“That you, Elaine?” Dottie’s daughter, Cassidy, called from her perch next to Parker Hansen on the back of the ambulance. “Travis told me to keep an eye out for you. He and Weston are directing traffic. Pull up a chair.”
Parker hopped off the back of the ambulance and pulled over a big folding chair. “You’re lucky, it’s been pretty slow tonight.”
She settled into the deep pocket of the chair and pulled Dax onto her lap. He was almost getting too big for this, but he could barely stand. And tonight, she’d glimpsed more of the boy he was before the tornado. Soft and snuggly. Enthusiastic. Happy.
“I heard he did great the other day.” Parker gestured to Dax.
Elaine warmed. It never ceased to surprise her how kind people were about Dax. One of the many things that made Prairie special. People seemed to really care about each other. “He had a great time.” She stroked his head as he burrowed into her shoulder, still clutching the Minion.
“Anything we can do to help… we mean it.”
She was starting to understand that their offers weren’t simply platitudes, but came from a genuine desire to help Dax recover from the trauma of the tornado. She didn’t deserve their kindness in the least, but she was grateful for it nonetheless. She dipped her head, letting Dax’s hair sweep against her cheek and inhaling his little boy essence. He’d need a bath tomorrow, but right now she didn’t care. Her baby was a happy boy. She shut her eyes, breathing in the quiet sweetness of the moment.
“Elaine. Time to go.” Travis shook her awake. She came fully alert as he lifted Dax off her lap, suddenly cold in the warm night air. Gone were the crowd noises. All that remained were the sounds and muted conversations of clean-up. She followed Travis to the car and waited while he settled Dax in the back seat before opening the passenger door for her. An easy silence settled between them on the ride back to her trailer, and sleep pulled at her eyelids.
“Wait here,” Travis ordered, once he’d pulled up to the trailer.
Before
she could open her door, Travis hopped out and stalked up the short walkway mumbling something about ‘unlocked doors’ before disappearing into the trailer. As she opened the rear door, Travis stepped in to pull Dax from the back seat.
“You really don’t have to,”
The look he gave her said otherwise. Without a word, he carried Dax into the trailer. By the time she crossed the threshold, he stood in what passed for a living room, engulfing the entire space. “Thank you for today,” she murmured.
Travis stepped out of the shadows and into the pool of light cast by the lamppost through the open door. Her heart pounded in her ears. Could he hear it? She couldn’t hear anything else except the way her breath caught when she tilted her chin to look up at him. The hungry look in his eyes heated her blood, sending a shot of arousal to pool between her legs. She clenched her thighs to steady herself, but the ache only grew. His presence permeated the small space. She’d never look at her living room the same way again. She itched to run her hand across his jaw. Put a finger on the throbbing vein at his temple. Let the day’s stubble scratch her. Scrape over any number of tender spots. She’d never wanted a man before. Not like this. Never like this.
“Elaine.” His voice was tight. Rough. Like the first time she’d tried whiskey. “Say yes.”
How could she say no? She would regret saying yes until her dying day. She’d regret saying no for eternity. Tension radiated off him, like he was holding himself in check the same way she was. And yet he was in her space, so close his heat enveloped her, wound through her, weakening her resolve. His hand settled at her hip, thumb stroking through the thin cotton of her shirt. Her chest grew tight and she couldn’t breathe as the air around them electrified with possibility. She opened her mouth but no words came out – her mouth had turned to ash. She licked her lip at the same time a strangled noise came from his throat, and he brushed her mouth in the barest kiss. So light she must have imagined it.
But there was no imagining the electric shock that pulsed through her, hardening her nipples to tight peaks before liquefying her panties in a burst of desire. And she certainly didn’t imagine the second time it happened when his arm tightened around her and his breath skated across her cheek.
“Yes,” she breathed out on a sigh, leaning into him, her body buzzing as his lips brushed hers a third, then a fourth time.
But just like that it was over. Travis made another strangled noise and stepped back, taking with him the warmth that had so briefly encased her. He coughed and cleared his throat. “Good. Good. I’ll… ah… be in touch.”
He disappeared like a phantom, vanishing into the darkness. And long after his car pulled away, Elaine stood rooted to the floor, fingers pressed against a mouth still tingling from his touch.
CHAPTER 9
Moonlight streamed in through the open window. Travis rolled to his side, punching his pillow into submission for the fourth time that night, and shut his eyes. But all he saw was Elaine’s face, glowing and kissable in the moonlight. What the hell had he been thinking, kissing her? He hadn’t. His cock had been the one calling the shots. And it stirred now, taunting him.
She’d looked so sweet and vulnerable in the dark, and once he’d had a taste, he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t help himself. Her mouth had been softer than a feather. And she tasted like cotton candy. More incredible than he could have possibly imagined. It had taken superhuman effort to back away. His cock stood at full attention now, pressing against the elastic of his shorts as he replayed the scene over and over.
“Goddammit,” he groaned.
He rolled over in the other direction. Fuck him for being such a perv. He slipped a hand inside his shorts, fisting his cock and giving a sharp pull. His balls tightened as electricity circled up the back of his legs. He stroked again, imagining that sweet pink tongue lapping him up. He squeezed harder, pulling in short, strong, strokes, visualizing creamy full breasts, dusky pink nipples begging to be nipped and suckled.
What undid him was the vision of her spread open and ready for him, dipping his head to taste her, seeing her writhe in ecstasy before he finally pushed into her slick heat. He’d make it so good for her. Stroking in and out until she cried his name. His hips bucked as he pulled once, twice, three times, and came into his hand with a groan. He stared up at the ceiling, breath coming in harsh rasps, as his brain returned to earth. A bead of sweat trickled from his temple, slowly moving down the contours of his face to drop to the sheet. He was soaked. And still frustrated as hell.
Fuck this shit.
It didn’t matter it was before zero-dark-thirty. Sleep would only continue to elude him. He needed to work Elaine out of his system. He slipped off his shorts, and pulled the sheets from the bed, balling everything up and mashing it in the hamper. After a quick shower, he gathered up the sack of laundry and brought it downstairs to the washer. Then he went to the weight bench, which stood in front of the large stone fireplace where a couch had once been.
One of the many advantages of being a bachelor. No woman to tell him to hide his weights in the basement, or the barn. His setup right in the middle of the living room kept him from slacking off. He never missed a day of PT. Even on the coldest, stormiest mornings, he’d work up a sweat, then run the perimeter of the ranch before heading into the office. Being up at the ass-crack of dawn meant he’d get it over with sooner.
He started off with reverse sit-ups, but instead of his usual fifty, he doubled them.
“Ten.” Elaine was a Prairie resident.
“Twenty.” She was coming to work on his campaign.
“Thirty.” She had a kid.
“Forty.” She must be at least ten years younger than he was.
“Fifty.” She had scars, and probably a past.
“Sixty.” So did he for that matter.
His abs started to burn. “Seventy.” He’d never met anyone with a stronger work ethic. She must work seven days a week. And she was sweetly strong. She’d make the perfect rancher’s wife. He grunted. “Eighty. Motherfucker.” He wasn’t fucking quitting now, even if his abs hated him for a week.
“Ninety.” And he didn’t need a wife. His mother had dipped a toe in the ranching life pool, decided it wasn’t for her, and left them high and dry when Colton was two. Nope, if he started the ranch again someday, it would be without a wife.
“Hundred.” He dropped back, abs screaming.
He doubled his pushups to two-hundred.
How many times had he wanted to rub away the tension she carried at her neck? Or do something to ease the tired look in her eyes? She’d laughed yesterday, and his insides had gone all funny seeing her face light up. She was too young to carry all that worry with her. Most kids her age were probably doing keggers at college parties. She had the air of someone much older.
Travis collapsed on the floor, arms aching. Dragging himself up, he pulled on his running shoes. Making sure the door was locked behind him, he jammed the key in his shorts pocket and took off at a steady clip for the fence line. The moon was just setting, but the sun would be up by the time he finished.
Forty-five minutes later, his lungs burned as he forced himself to sprint over the final rise and back to the barnyard, now framed by a riot of pinks and oranges lighting up the morning sky. Weston stood waiting for him, lounging on a porch post, thermos in hand.
“What the hell is this?” he gasped between taking spiky breaths of air and surveying the work crew accompanying Weston.
“Morning to you too, sunshine.” Weston tipped his hat and hopped down the stairs, offering him the thermos. “Time to fix this place up. You’re running for sheriff. Your property can’t look like it hasn’t seen the light of day in a decade.” He unscrewed the thermos lid and poured hot liquid into it. “Drink up. If people see you neglect your property, they’ll think you’ll neglect your job.”
Travis rolled his eyes. “Oh, Jesus.”
“Praying won’t help you win,” Weston chuckled. “But polishing your image will.
And you wanna win, don’t you?”
“You sure this isn’t about you taking over my job?”
Weston smiled enigmatically and lifted a shoulder.
“What’s the trailer for?” Travis gestured at the horse trailer attached to Weston’s truck.
“Saw in the back of Rancher’s Monthly yesterday that there’s an auction next town over. A nice gentle mare and a pony are up. You come from ranch stock, gotta have animals for your flyers.”
“But I’m a policeman.”
Weston tsked and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Voters want someone like them.”
A knot formed in Travis’s stomach. “This is a bad idea, Wes.”
“This is the perfect way to scrub up your grumpy bachelor policeman image.” Weston cuffed him on the shoulder. “You’re a man of the people now.”
Travis shook his head. “You should go work for your old man.”
Weston made a face. “Nah. I never want to set foot in DC again. But I’ll happily use what I learned as a kid to help a friend in need.”
“I don’t need anything,” he grumbled. What had he gotten himself into, agreeing to run for sheriff?
Weston glared at him. “What you need is a family. But I have to work with what I have, so horses it is. And I know of at least one kid who’d be thrilled to ride a nice gentle pony.”
“Shows what you know. Ponies can be ornery. Don’t underestimate them because they’re small.”
“Then stick Dax on the mare. I don’t care.” Weston turned to the barn. “With the crew here, we can have the barn looking good by the end of the day. You’re going to take more work.”
There went a chunk of his nest-egg. But the barn desperately needed work. At least this way it would be ready for someday, whenever that was. He took another swig of the coffee. “Let me go change. I’ll come help.”
