The Bachelor’s Surrender

by Janelle Denison

  The canvas bag held all of Chad’s most treasured possessions—a few photos of his parents, his scrapbook of Rafe’s career, a worn and tattered floppy-eared bunny he’d had since infancy and a couple of his favorite action-figures. Lauren knew the backpack was a security blanket of sorts for Chad, and he rarely went far without it.

  “Here’s a picture of Rafe when he won the PRCA Bull Riding Championship for the third time in a row,” Chad said to Kristin and James, who sat on either side of him on the sofa. All three of their gazes were drawn to the color photograph taken from a trade magazine.

  Situated on the love seat across from the sofa, with Rafe sitting beside her, Lauren was able to fully enjoy the way Chad effortlessly charmed Kristin and James with his animated conversation and his infectious enthusiasm. The young boy had a captive audience, and took advantage of their undivided attention.

  For as much as Chad enjoyed spending time with Rafe, Lauren noticed a special connection between the boy and James, a natural paternal rapport that went beyond the politeness of being warm and amicable to an orphaned boy.

  “And here’s an article on Rafe when he rode Twister for the full eight seconds and won the purse for that event at the Wild, Wild West Rodeo. Lucky number seventeen!” Chad drawled like a seasoned rodeo announcer, making everyone but Rafe laugh at his antics.

  Chad glanced across the room to the man he idolized, his gaze expectant. “Do you remember that win, Rafe?”

  “Sure do,” Rafe replied, his low, even tone disguising just how uncomfortable this trip down memory lane seemed to make him.

  Chad continued, pointing out the pictures, features, and write-ups on Rafe he’d collected over the years. The more Chad acclaimed Rafe and his prestigious career, the more Lauren detected a growing change in the man sitting beside her. The tension radiating off him was nearly palpable, and she resisted the strong urge to lay her fingers over the hand absently rubbing his right thigh in a restless motion. A small consolation considering how troubled and anxious this entire scenario made him.

  “This is my favorite article,” Chad announced, a bit of awe in his voice. He went on to read the caption heading the feature that had reached the entire rodeo community, and beyond. “‘From PRCA champion to hero. It’s all in a day’s work’.” Chad’s gaze met Rafe’s, the emotion in the boy’s eyes heart-felt. “I know you can’t ride bulls any more, but saving that other man’s life was very brave of you.”

  Rafe abruptly stood, his expression one of a cornered animal. Swooping up his Stetson from the coffee table next to the couch, he jammed it on his head and gave the occupants of the room a curt nod. “I think I’ll go saddle up the horses so we can head back home before nightfall.”

  A combination of confusion and hurt creased Chad’s brow, and he chewed on his lower lip as he watched the man he held in such high esteem leave the living room.

  Kristin’s gaze met Lauren’s from across the room, silently urging her to follow her brother and somehow make amends. Lauren felt inadequately equipped to handle Rafe’s emotional demons, but neither did she want to add to Chad’s disappointment.

  “I’ll go help Rafe with the horses,” she said meaningfully.

  Kristin nodded. “How about you help me with dessert, Chad?” she asked, ruffling his hair to divert his attention. “I made a fresh apple pie this morning, and I can warm you up a slice.”

  “With a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top,” James suggested with a grin and bobbing eyebrows as he placed an affectionate hand on Chad’s shoulder to guide him toward the kitchen. “That’s the only way to enjoy apple pie.”

  “Can I have two scoops of ice cream?” he asked guilelessly, prompting the adults to laugh.

  Knowing the young boy was sufficiently occupied, Lauren took a deep, fortifying breath and went in search of her reluctant hero.

  “You need to work on your manners, Dalton. Your departure back there was a little rude.”

  Rafe stiffened at the sound of Lauren’s mocking voice, but he didn’t turn around to acknowledge her as he slipped a bit into Bronwyn’s mouth. “What do you want, Lauren?” he asked gruffly, still unsettled by what had just transpired up at the house, and the multitude of feelings Chad’s innocent words had unleashed.

  She entered the corral and stopped in front of Bronwyn, who greeted her with a gentle nuzzling against her jaw, making Lauren smile and croon sweet words to the mare. To Rafe, she said, “I thought you might need some help.”

  He suspected her motives for seeking him out were more self-serving than that. “I have a problem with my leg, not my arms and hands.”

  “You also seem to have a problem admitting you’re a hero for saving that bull rider’s life,” she shot back impudently.

  Adjusting the straps of the headpiece over Bronwyn’s ears, he fought to hold onto his escalating temper. “I can’t admit to something I’m not.” He pinned Lauren with a dark look that warned her to quit probing. “Chad is hanging on to an illusion created by the press.”

  “Is it so wrong for a child to believe in heroes?” she asked softly.

  Just like she believed in love and happily-ever-after. “Not where they don’t exist.” Looping Bronwyn’s reins loosely over a rail, he stalked around Lauren and headed inside the stables to retrieve the rest of their gear.

  He heard her quick footsteps behind him, then her hand curled around his arm, bringing him to a stop at the end of the corridor.

  Determination lined her features when he faced her. “Quit brushing this subject off as inconsequential, Rafe.”

  He glared, perfecting the scowl that kept most people at bay.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and waited. “I’m not letting this go until you explain what just happened up at the house a few minutes ago. Since the day I first met you you’ve dodged this ‘hero’ issue, acting as though it’s an insult to your character. The people in town put up with your uncivilized behavior because they don’t want to confront you. Well, I’m tired of dealing with your moods and your cynicism, and you know why?”

  He didn’t answer, though he had a feeling she was going to give him her opinion on the matter whether he wanted it or not.

  “Because I know this gruff, don’t-get-close-to-me attitude is all a facade to hide something deeper and more painful,” she said.

  He propped his fists on his hips and shifted his weight to his left leg. “And how would you know that?” he challenged in a derisive drawl.

  Her perfect, kissable mouth pursed. “People who have been hurt tend to blame themselves for things that aren’t necessarily their fault. I see that in my line of work all the time. Guilt is a powerful emotion.” When he said nothing, her eyes flashed with irritation. “Dammit, Rafe, what happened to make you such a cynical man?”

  Instincts he’d honed the past year urged him to ignore her question and walk away, but the need to unburden himself was undeniable. The pain twisting inside him was near unbearable. So was the awful realization that he’d inherited traits from his father that he wasn’t proud of.

  Wearily, he sat down on the bench braced against the nearby wall and scrubbed a hand along his jaw. “I don’t deserve Chad’s praise, or anyone else’s, for what I did for Keith,” he told her, his voice low and as honest as he’d ever been. “I feel like a fraud for letting Chad believe I’m a hero.”

  “Why?” She shook her head in puzzlement, her silky hair brushing her shoulders with the movement. “You saved that rider and risked your own life in the process. You even took the brunt of that bull’s anger while rescuing Keith, which ended your career. If that isn’t heroic, I don’t know what is.”

  He rubbed his palm over the scar on his thigh through his jeans while old, bitter emotions rose to the surface, nearly choking him with guilt. “How do you think Chad would feel about me being a hero if he knew I was the reason Keith nearly got killed?”

  Lauren’s blue eyes widened, and she pressed her back against the stall door behind her as she absorbed his la
test confession. After a moment, she said, “I find it hard to believe that you could be responsible for a bull throwing a rider. That’s the nature of the sport.”

  “Normally, it is, but I pushed Keith to get on that bull before he was ready.” Rafe stood and paced in front of her, caught up in his own personal grief. “The kid was scared spitless and was in no way prepared for the power and force of Cyclone’s fury. I knew that, yet I pushed him to get on that bull and ride him like a man.”

  “Ultimately, it was Keith’s choice to ride Cyclone,” Lauren argued vehemently. “You’re not the black-hearted guy you want everyone to believe, Rafe.”

  He stopped in front of her, unable to understand how this woman who didn’t know him at all refused to believe the worst about him, even after he’d given her all the contemptible facts. Unable to understand, too, how much he ached to accept her faith and unconditional gentleness, yet knowing he was undeserving of either.

  The awareness that inevitably swirled between them began its slow, sensual pull on his senses. His heart hammered in his chest as he gazed into her eyes, the depths as clear and breath-taking as the vast Wyoming sky. It was dim and cool in the stable, their surroundings made more intimate by the quickening of her breathing. The provocative sound elicited a very male response from him.

  Unable to resist her allure, he caressed the back of his knuckles down her soft cheek, the silky texture of her skin a direct, arousing contrast to his rough, callused hands. “You’re the kind of woman who believes the best in everyone, aren’t you?” Surprisingly, his tone was devoid of the criticism he’d used to keep his distance from this woman, and instead held reluctant resignation.

  She shivered delicately when he brushed the tips of his fingers along her neck and touched the sensitive spot behind her ear. “Everyone deserves that chance.” Her voice was husky with desire, rich with a growing need.

  “Not me,” he refuted in a raspy murmur, still unable to shake the last few convictions he’d clung to for too long.

  A soft, feminine smile curved her mouth. “Especially you, Rafe.” Lifting a hand, she pressed her palm against his chest, not to push him away, but to urge him closer to the heat and hunger building between them. “What happened was a tragic mistake, but you’re a good person and I don’t believe you’d intentionally hurt anyone.”

  After a year of living in the dark world he’d created for himself, and tormenting his conscience with guilt and recriminations, her compassion warmed his bruised and battered soul. She tangled up his emotions, made him long for things he had no right wanting. And regardless of every solid reason he had for avoiding her brand of tenderness, he was powerless to stop the fierce need she evoked. There was something about her that pulled at him, made him want to expose his darkest secrets, his most vulnerable fears.

  He stared at her generous mouth, remembering too well how open and honestly she responded to him—no pretenses, just pure pleasure and a deep, vital craving like nothing he’d ever experienced. He wanted to taste her again, appease the addiction he seemed to have for her.

  She watched him with those perceptive eyes veiled by long, sooty lashes, waiting patiently for him to make up his mind, her hand warm and still over his frantically beating heart. When he finally gave into temptation and slowly lowered his head to claim her mouth, she didn’t resist him. She brazenly met him halfway, her lips parted and damp and ready.

  Where their first kiss a few days ago had been heated and angry and filled with reckless thoroughness, this one was a slow, drugging discovery. This time, he gradually eased her into a deeper embrace, seducing her with the warm slide of his lips, the tantalizing glide of his tongue against hers. What the first kiss lacked in subtlety, this one more than made up for in finesse.

  Lifting his hands, he framed her face between his palms. He stepped closer, imprinting his body with her supple curves, inflaming his senses with erotic, forbidden thoughts that fueled the fantasies he had of her naked and eager beneath him. Her soft breasts crushed against his chest, and she arched to get closer still, then moaned in frustration when the contact didn’t seem to satisfy her.

  The flare of anticipation between them was too much, and not enough. Overwhelming emotions gripped him—the tenderness he’d sworn he didn’t have within him, and the raw desire he’d fought to suppress since the moment this sassy, stubborn lady had breezed into his life, turning it upside down. He poured everything into that intimate kiss, knowing too soon she’d be gone and his world would return to the lonely, solitary existence he’d created for himself. If memories were the only thing he had to keep him company during the cold, long winter, then he planned to store up plenty.

  He cupped her breast through her shirt, relishing the way her soft, feminine flesh swelled against his palm. He grazed his thumb over the tip until it hardened beneath his touch. She gasped, breaking their kiss, and he found himself looking into her bright blue eyes, falling deeper into the spell she seemed to cast over him.

  “Rafe . . .” she whispered achingly.

  The one word held a wealth of possibilities and he struggled to maintain some semblance of control over the situation. “We can’t do this,” he said, even as his hands skimmed down her sides, putting to memory her lush curves.

  “I . . . I can’t help wanting you, Rafe.”

  Her honesty humbled him. Nuzzling his face into the curve of her neck, he breathed deeply of her scent. “It’s just a bad case of lust,” he said, knowing his words were a lie. A one-time tumble wouldn’t be enough to get this woman out of his system.

  Lifting his head, he smoothed her hair from her face. “Our lives are too different for it to be anything more than that, Lauren. You’ve got your work in California, and I’m not looking for anything long term or serious.”

  She nodded in agreement, but that didn’t erase the more troubling emotions in her eyes. “So what are we going to do about this attraction between us?”

  “Nothing.” The one word rang with finality, but didn’t stop him from dipping his head and stealing another kiss, and yet another. “Nothing at all,” he muttered against her lips.

  Before he broke his own rule and changed his mind about making love to her, he moved away, reminding himself of the many complications of getting involved with a citified woman like Lauren. Not only did they live in different worlds, but she was looking for love, which wasn’t on his agenda. Mix that with her mother, who had her own itinerary of finding a ‘suitable man’ for her daughter, and they were courting disaster.

  He blew out a long breath to release the sexual tension coiling in his belly, and lower, and worked real hard at softening his expression. “Come on,” he said, nodding his head toward the tack room. “You said you came down here to help me with the horses, and I plan to put you to work.”

  Chapter Six

  Lauren walked into the kitchen early the following morning and found Rafe staring out the window over the sink, drinking a cup of coffee. “Good morning,” she greeted him, bright and cheery.

  He turned around, his gaze taking in her casual summer dress and sandals before returning to her face. Pleasure, and something more vibrant, flitted across his expression, making her pulse pick up its tempo.

  “Morning.” His drawl was warm, friendly, and devoid of the underlying gruffness that had once colored his tone.

  She’d definitely made progress with Rafe’s attitude, though her ultimate goal was to see a smile on those sexy lips of his, which she was confident of prodding from him before the end of the week. The man didn’t stand a chance against her efforts. Granted, he wasn’t easily swayed by a toy like the young foster children she dealt with, but she planned to barrage him with humor and laughter and her own smiles until he had no choice but to respond in kind.

  Keeping her own satisfied grin under wraps, she headed toward the coffee pot on the counter. Bringing a mug down from the cupboard, she filled it with the steaming brew, then added cream and sugar.

  She could feel Rafe’s gaze
on her, watching her, and her skin flushed with a shimmering warmth. The strain of the past few days had eased between them after their confrontation at Kristin’s the evening before, but now a new kind of tension had taken its place—a sensual awareness teeming with anticipation.

  Lauren leaned a hip against the counter, took a sip of her coffee. “I was thinking of taking Chad to Fran’s for breakfast for those banana pecan pancakes she’d offered. Will you come with us?”

  His relaxed stance suddenly shifted, growing rigid. “You two go ahead,” he said, dumping the last of his coffee into the sink. “I’ve got things I need to get done around here.”

  He wasn’t a very good liar, but she didn’t call him on his excuse. She suspected he didn’t want to venture into town with her and Chad in tow and deal with the speculation that would no doubt circulate, but she wasn’t going to let him off that easily. “Can’t it wait an hour or two?” she cajoled in her sweetest voice. “I’d really like for you to come along, and I know Chad would enjoy you being there, too.”

  He hesitated, his mouth thinning in indecision as he wavered between refusing, or agreeing.

  She produced her most persuasive expression. “Please?”

  “All right,” he said after another long moment passed, and gave his head a slightly perceptible shake, as if he couldn’t believe he was giving into her whims. “I need to pick up a few things at Gentry’s feed store anyway.”

  She didn’t believe that excuse either, but considering she’d gotten exactly what she’d wanted, she wasn’t about to argue his reasons for accepting the invitation.

  A half hour later, the three of them entered Fran’s Diner, with Lauren determined to improve Rafe’s reputation with the townsfolk. Surprisingly, and without her prompting, Rafe nodded politely to the patrons he knew as they passed occupied tables to a vacant one in the middle of the restaurant, and in the process seemed to salvage a small portion of the respect he’d lost the past year. Reclaiming his social status in Cedar Creek would be a slow, gradual process, Lauren knew, but Rafe’s new attitude was an excellent start in that direction—as long as he kept up his sociable disposition after she and Chad returned to California.