Cowboy For Hire

by Victoria James

  “Hell, Sarah, put down the damn pillow. We already went down that road with the dangers of upholstered fabrics in here. No need to get crazy,” he choked out, scrambling into a sitting position.

  She laughed. At him. And raised her arm with the filthy pillow.

  “You wouldn’t.”

  She raised her eyebrow, an adorable—if not slightly evil—smirk on her lips. “People think I’m boring and I don’t take risks.”

  He swallowed hard, his gaze darting from the pillow to her dancing eyes. “You don’t have friends, remember? No one knows if you’re boring or not. I don’t think you’re boring. You’re very dangerous, you take lots of risks, and you’re the scariest person I know.”

  She laughed.

  He took no chances. He grabbed her wrist and she half screamed, half laughed as he pulled her onto the bed, but she still managed to hold on to that damn pillow. They were laughing as he tackled her gently and rolled until he was on top of her. She kept her arm raised, the pillow dangling off the bed. He didn’t think he’d ever laughed so hard in his life, certainly not as an adult. He was still laughing when he lowered his head to kiss her.

  Wait. Hell, what was he doing?

  He stopped himself before their lips touched and pried that pillow out of her hands with as few fingers as possible. She ran her now-free hands down his shoulders, over his arms.

  He sat up. “You’re killing me.”

  “But I’m a lot of fun. Admit it.”

  He smiled. “You are. Which is why I’m getting up now,” he said and forced himself to stand up and cross the room.

  “I think it’s your turn,” she said finally.

  Right. “Okay. Go ahead.”

  She fixed her green eyes on him. “Where is your family?”

  The pounding on the door came at the perfect time. “I’ll get that,” he said, opening the door to find Carl standing there with a toolbox and wearing the same dirty shirt.

  “Hi, folks. I’m here to fix your cable,” he said, walking in when Cade opened the door wider for him.

  “Miss,” he said to Sarah with a nod. “I’ll fix this in a jiffy so you two can get on with your night.”

  “Oh, take your time; we’re not having a night,” Sarah said, her face red.

  Carl gave him a look that pretty much said, you poor bastard, before banging his hand on the side of the television a few times.

  “So is your wife helping you tonight?” Sarah asked as he picked up the cable box, turned it over a few times, and then tapped the screen. Carl had no idea how to fix anything.

  “Yeah. She came by eventually,” he said with what Cade was pretty sure was an overly dramatic sigh as he put the cable box down and leaned against the dresser. “We’ve been having a few problems lately.”

  Please don’t ask why, Sarah.

  “Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “I’m sure all marriages go through rough patches.”

  He shrugged and again made no move to fix the cable. “I guess. She says I’m not trying anymore.”

  Maybe he should wear clean clothes.

  He watched Sarah smile sympathetically. She was too nice, and that was going to be their downfall. “That’s something you can fix, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah. Buy a magazine about relationships or something. Thanks for your help, Carl,” Cade said. Sarah frowned at him before turning back to Carl with that sweet look of sympathy.

  “Why don’t you sit down for a minute and let’s brainstorm. Can I get you a coffee?”

  Carl nodded, and Cade watched with disbelief as he sat on the corner of the bed. “That would be great. Mary Beth said I should be making my own coffee.”

  Sarah started the coffeepot and folded her arms, turning to Carl. Now, she’d let him have it. “Well, she’s right. You’re capable. Please don’t tell me you rely on Mary Beth to make you a simple cup of coffee.”

  Carl squirmed under Sarah’s stern gaze. Cade was inexplicably pleased. “I guess I shouldn’t, right?”

  “Of course not! Think of everything Mary Beth has going on, what with the kids, the house, and then helping out here. You have to step up. She can’t do it all. I bet she feels so unappreciated. Okay, let’s see what we can do,” she said, handing him his coffee.

  “Do you have sugar?” Carl asked, looking up at her like a lost puppy.

  “Carl, this is your motel,” Cade snapped.

  Carl nodded and scurried over to where the sugar and creamer were. Sarah shot Cade a warning glare. Once Carl sat back on the bed, this ridiculous conversation continued. “Let’s think,” Sarah said. “Did she bring up anything else that’s bothering her?”

  Carl stirred his coffee and let out a forlorn sigh. “I think I should try and take her out for dinner every once and a while. Just the two of us. She said something like she’s tired of feeling like a slave.”

  “That’s a pretty good warning sign,” Cade said with a snort.

  They ignored him.

  “Yes. Of course you need alone time with Mary Beth, and you need to help out. Tell her how much you appreciate everything she does for you and the kids.”

  “Why don’t you bring her here?” Cade said.

  They both frowned at him.

  “Something a little more…romantic,” Sarah said.

  “I’m not very creative,” Carl said, slurping his coffee.

  Cade wondered if he should tell him to stop slurping coffee and making that noise. It might be contributing to his marital problems if Mary Beth had to listen to that every morning at the breakfast table.

  “Okay, let’s see. Do you know her favorite flower?”

  Carl shook his head.

  Cade let out a tsking sound.

  They ignored him. “Okay, well, roses are always a good bet if you don’t know. Think of the things you used to do in the beginning of your relationship. Did you bring her flowers? Did you…um, dress up a little more?” Cade almost cracked a smile at her diplomatic rewording of wear clean clothes.

  Carl shrugged. “I guess I did. I just never realized that that was important stuff, you know? She’s home with the kids, and then she tries to help me here…”

  “Do you help her at home?”

  “I guess I could do more,” he said.

  “Great. Problem solved. Do more at home, say thank you once in a while, make your own damn coffee, buy flowers, and change your shirt. Can you fix our cable now?” Cade said.

  Carl nodded and stood. “Thanks for that advice, kids. I’m going to take it. Tomorrow I’ll be a new man.”

  Sarah beamed at Cade as Carl’s back was to them. The man did nothing more than pound the television a few times and then turn it on. Somehow, it was working again. “Well, you have a good night. The Highwayman appreciates your business. If you need anything, you just call me at the front desk.”

  Cade walked him to the door. “Thanks.”

  “Good luck, Carl,” Sarah called out.

  Cade locked the door after Carl left. Sarah was already picking up the remote. “Poor Carl. Hopefully he takes our advice.”

  He was thinking more like poor Cade. He was alone in a motel room with the most gorgeous, sweetest woman he’d ever known, and it was hands off. Carl was the lucky one. “He’ll be fine,” he said, joining her on his side of the bed.

  He was relieved she seemed to have forgotten about her question. If there was one thing he’d never shared with anyone, it was his family. The deeper he got with Sarah, the more he wanted to keep his past to himself.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cade looked down at Sarah, who’d fallen asleep, her head against his shoulder, one hand in the bag of Peach Rings, and smiled. He kissed the top of her head and slowly pulled her hand out of the bag, wincing at the crinkling sound in the quiet room as he placed it on the nightstand.

 
He had no idea how it was almost three o’clock in the morning. He also had no idea how they’d made it to almost three o’clock in the morning fully clothed without any whiskey left.

  “Can I ask you something?” she whispered.

  He craned his head back to see her—he’d assumed she’d fallen asleep. The parking lot light streamed through the curtain, a thin ribbon in the dark room, reminding him again how different this was. He’d never noticed the small details of nightfall, the sound of the woman next to him breathing, how soft and intimate a voice could be in the darkness. As much as motels were a part of the man he used to be, this lying here with a woman, talking and sharing, was a part of him that he wished had existed earlier. Or maybe not, because that would have meant it was another woman. But the intimacy of this, of Sarah’s hand on his chest, of her soft body pressed against his or their secret-filled whispers, could have only been with her.

  “Sure,” he said, brushing his lips against the top of her head as she spoke.

  “Did you do this a lot?”

  He kept his gaze on the ribbon of light, as all the times, nights he’d spent in places like this danced along that ribbon. He wanted to make her understand that he’d been a different man, one she didn’t know and one he really didn’t want her to know. But this was about honesty tonight, about letting walls down, and he’d answer as much as he could honestly answer. “This?” he said finally, wanting to be sure he knew what she was asking.

  She shifted, perching her chin on her hand and turning to him. “With…your girlfriends. Were there lots?”

  He wished that ribbon would disappear and he wouldn’t be able to see the flicker of insecurity in her eyes as she watched him. “I’ve never had a girlfriend. I’ve never had a lasting, committed relationship.” Maybe that was the way to explain his lifestyle. It sounded better than admitting he’d only ever had sex with people he barely knew and would rarely ever have to see again.

  “Sooooo…” she whispered, her voice trailing off as she continued to look at him.

  He put one hand behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. “So, I’ve been with women I barely knew because I never wanted anything more than that.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve never had a reason to want more.” He wanted to add until now, but he wasn’t naive. Just because this wave of regret and longing was hitting him hard tonight, he knew it wouldn’t still be there tomorrow or next week. This thing he had for Sarah wasn’t ever going to go anywhere. It couldn’t.

  “Did you spend the entire night with them?”

  “Sarah…”

  “Never mind. None of my business.”

  He spread his palm against her back. “I’ve never done this. I’ve never held on to someone during the night or shared my thoughts.”

  He let that sit out there, wondering if she’d say anything, wondering why he’d even revealed that. He’d always assumed that revealing his true thoughts would make him vulnerable. In the past, they had. At home, as a kid, they had. Tears and sadness meant that the adults could cut you apart for not being strong enough. The world was no place for a man who wasn’t strong. So he’d learned to be strong and to fake it even when he didn’t feel it. But Sarah made him feel…safe.

  “I used to lie in bed at night, in a house full of people, and feel completely alone. I could hear voices and footsteps all around me and yet I’d never felt more alone.”

  “I know what that’s like.” He wanted to keep speaking and share all the times as a young kid he’d hide somewhere in the house. He’d never really had his own room, but he’d always managed to find a secret spot where he could hide a blanket and flashlight, sometimes a snack. That would make him feel safer—his own little spot where no one could find him.

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  He shook his head, not wanting to offer any more. “How do you feel right now?” he asked, because it was important, and because he didn’t want to talk about himself.

  “This is the safest I’ve felt in a long, long time. When Josh was alive, the world was this big, safe, exciting place. I thought I had it all. And when everything just…exploded, I learned that good stuff can’t last forever. That’s what I think is so hard to take. It’s scary to think that at any moment, when you’re living the life you’ve always wanted, it could be ripped away from you without warning.”

  Shit. He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “It’s scary as hell. But what choice is there? Live in fear the rest of your life? That’s not really living. And then there are those lucky ones, the ones who get to grow old after having really lived and come out okay in the end.”

  “And maybe that’s why we can’t take things or people for granted. Or situations like this for granted.”

  He stilled. He didn’t say anything. He should pull away. But he also knew on a deeper level that he would always have a hard time keeping his hands off her now. What he felt for her was completely different. “Sarah,” he said in a choked whisper.

  “Don’t say no to me. We’re here. It’s just the two of us. What if it wasn’t an accident that you applied for the job? What if you were meant to? What if we were meant to meet each other?”

  Hell. No way. “I don’t believe in that.”

  He was glad the lights were off so that he couldn’t see the disappointment he knew would be on her face. The silence was enough of a confirmation, and soon he was pretty sure she’d fallen asleep for real.

  He adjusted the pillows. She didn’t even open her eyes as she curled into him, her head against his shoulder. He placed his hand on top of hers that was resting on his chest, and then he slowly picked it up, kissing her smooth skin before laying it on top of him again.

  This was a night unlike any other for him. It felt like the beginning of something he didn’t know he’d ever find. He’d longed for things in the past, different ways, a different life, but he’d never found anyone to make him want to jump in headfirst. He’d spent his life drifting from home to home and from person to person. Women he hadn’t wanted for more than a night, women who didn’t want him for more than a night. That had been his way…and it had been pretty damn lonely.

  Then Sarah walked into his life, or he’d walked into hers, and suddenly one night was nothing. One night would never be enough. This was his one night with her, and despite both of them being fully clothed, he’d never felt as close to anyone as this.

  Sometime before dawn, he drifted off to sleep, a smile on his face as he pictured Sarah holding the damn throw pillow over him.

  …

  Sarah opened one eye, and it took her a minute to figure out where she was and who she was with. The Highwayman. Cade. She was half on him, her head on his chest and her hand… She slowly pulled it out from under his shirt, off his hard abs, careful not to disturb him. But she couldn’t quite force herself to move away just yet. She wanted to hold on to this moment for as long as she could. She didn’t want to be alone again. She wanted to lie here forever with him; she wanted to watch him forever, to run her hand over his cheek and feel his stubble against her fingertips. She wanted to feel the safety of his strong body against hers.

  She wanted this weekend to be the rest of her life.

  Last night, she had finally broken free and lived. She had kissed Cade and hadn’t wanted to stop. He had been incredible. He’d made her feel alive and safe at the same time. She had talked to him about things she never talked about, things she could never mention to Edna. He had sat there and listened, the warm reassurance emanating from his eyes making her feel like she could go on talking for hours.

  But when he’d crossed the room and held her, nothing had prepared her for what it would mean to be held by him, kissed by him.

  She closed her eyes as a wave of nausea hit. Alarm gripped her for a moment, and she forced herself to calm down. It wasn’t a migraine. That would be too cruel
after the night she had. One night. She slowly opened her eyes as the sensation passed, only to find the telltale visual blurriness of aura confirming that she was getting a migraine.

  This couldn’t be happening. Moving slowly, not wanting to wake up Cade and not wanting to jostle her head, she made her way to the shower. Maybe she could fight it off. She opened the bottle of water and downed as much as she could before going to take a shower.

  Twenty minutes later, Sarah emerged from the bathroom, feeling like a train wreck. She’d hoped that a shower and brushing her teeth would have made her feel like a human again, but it was no luck. She squinted against blinding sunlight streaming through the windows and clutched the doorframe as two waves floated across her sight line. Oh, crap.

  She opened her eyes again to see Cade standing across the room, only half dressed, staring at her. Thankfully her vision hadn’t completely gone before she could admire that sight. There was something incredibly intimate about sharing a room with someone, especially someone like him. Wherever he went, he had a presence. Here, his presence took up an entire room. It wasn’t just how he looked—his face, the ripped and lean body—it was him.

  “You don’t look well,” he said, concern lacing his deep voice as he crossed the room.

  She clutched the door tighter as he turned into a blur. Not wanting to speak, because it would take too much effort, she just stood there. She knew she had minutes until her vision would be gone. He leaned down, holding her shoulders and staring into her eyes. “Sarah, what’s wrong?”

  She forced the words out. “I’m getting a migraine. I…have medication in my purse…”

  “Okay. I’m going to help you over to the bed, and then I’ll get you the pills.”

  “I can do it,” she whispered, because it hurt to speak normally. She cursed when her foot hit the toe of the bed, but Cade’s hand gripped her arm.

  “I think you might be more stubborn than me, and that’s not a compliment,” he said as he guided her onto the bed.