This was no boy. He was all man, and he had the hard look of someone who’d seen too much and done even more.
A tiredness pulled at his expression and she stiffened against a rush of sympathy. While they might be facing similar situations now, they were still worlds apart.
If only she didn’t keep forgetting that all-important fact.
“I’d hoped we would have found it by now,” the deep rumble of his voice drew her from her thoughts.
“The night is still young. We’ll find it.”
He stared at the bottle of beer and picked at the edge of the label before chancing a glance at her. “And if we don’t?” His gaze caught hers. “Do you have a backup plan?”
She shrugged. “I figured I would pay a visit to the bank and ask for an extension. I doubt I’ll get it, but it doesn’t hurt to ask. Then I’ll hit up Les and see if he can give me a loan.”
“That means you’ll have to stick around to pay it back.”
She nodded. “That’s usually the way a loan works.”
“Why not just let the bank have it? Or do a short sale and split whatever’s left with your sisters?”
“We grew up in that house.” It was the one place that felt like home. The only place. “My dad and mom worked hard to keep up the bills when James couldn’t make it. I can’t just let it go. It’s all we have. It’s all I have left that still reminds me of them.”
Silence stretched between them for several long moments before his words echoed in her ears. “I’m really sorry about that night, Callie. I’m sorry it went to hell so fast, and I’m really sorry about your parents.”
His sorry didn’t matter. She’d told herself that time and time again over the years. It didn’t matter what he said. What he thought. None of it mattered.
She’d been right. The words didn’t make a bit of difference. They were meaningless, an empty gesture that did little to console or ease the fist tightening inside of her.
Rather it was the gleam of sincerity in his gaze, the glimmer of regret that soothed the fierce ache and helped her next breath come a little easier.
“That broken-down house is my home. It always will be, even when I’m far away from here. I have to hold onto it. My sisters are just starting out. They need a place to stay while they build something solid for the future.”
“And what about you? What about your future?”
“It’s still there. It’s just on pause right now.” And for the past ten years. “My time will come once everything else is settled.”
He arched an eyebrow. “What if it never settles? What if there’s another problem on the heels of this one?”
He voiced the one fear that had niggled at her night after night over the past ten years. The worry that she might never be free of Rebel. That she might find herself stuck, her dreams just that—dreams. Possibilities that existed only in her imagination.
She swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat and squared her shoulders. “Then I’ll keep dealing with whatever comes until Fate finally cuts me a break. It’ll happen.” Her gaze met his. “My time will come. I want to be a photojournalist. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“What about settling down someday? Do you want that, too?”
She shrugged. “I’ve dated a few guys. Kyle Parker and Miles Langtry. They were fun, but it never went anywhere. We’re just friends.” She watched the satisfied expression that slid over his face and heat whispered through her. “What about you? You think you might settle down someday?”
“I’m sure Tyler McCall would like that.”
“Tyler? Your cousin?”
“Fourth cousin, and my biggest competition. He’s hot after my spot and he’s not too shy about telling any and everyone who will listen. He’s gunning for me. One slipup and that’s it. He’ll sail right past me into first place.”
“But you won’t slip up,” she said, her voice steady with confidence because she knew him. “You passed calculus, remember? She’s a meaner bitch than any bull.” Her words drew a grin and her heart stalled.
“Yeah, well, I had a secret weapon for that.” His gaze held hers and her heart stuttered for the next several beats. “I’m on my own on the circuit.”
“Sounds lonely.”
He seemed to think. “It shouldn’t be. I’m surrounded by a shitload of people on a daily basis, but once the ride ends and the dust settles, it’s just me.”
“Sounds like you don’t like it half as much as you pretend to.”
“I don’t like it.” He shook his head. “I love it. When I hear that buzzer, there’s no other feeling. It’s just not half as glamorous as people think. It’s tough.”
“I saw you in the winner’s circle in Vegas getting sprayed with a bottle of champagne by two Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders. Talk about torture.”
The grin turned to a full-blown smile. “Definitely one of my lowest moments.”
“So what about you? You ever thought of ditching the champagne and making it official with one of those cheerleaders?”
He shrugged. “I’m not really into cheerleaders.”
“Since when?”
“Since I gave up football practice to sit in the math lab every afternoon with my calculus tutor.” His gaze caught and held hers. “I wouldn’t have graduated if it hadn’t been for you. You were really something, Callie.”
Were. The word struck, niggling at her and stirring a rush of insecurity fed by ten years of sacrifice. She had been something. On top of her game. A force ready to take on the world.
Then.
She shook away the disturbing thought and shrugged. “I just helped you study. You were the one in class taking all of the tests. Graduating was all on you. So what about it?” she rushed on, eager to ignore the warmth whispering through her. “Do you see yourself settling down in the future?”
He took another swig of his beer and shook his head. “I’m not the marrying kind. I live out of an RV year-round, going from rodeo to rodeo. It’s no kind of life for a wife and kids.”
“But you can’t ride forever. What about when you retire?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t really thought that far ahead. I can’t see myself doing anything other than what I’m doing right now.”
“I always thought you might come home and take over for your pappy. And now that he’s sick—”
“He’s still in charge. I’m just helping out until he gets over this rough patch.” He wiped a hand over his sweaty forehead, his expression closing as if he didn’t want to say another word about the subject. His blue eyes fixated on her like twin laser beams. “You know, Callie, there’s never a right time to make something happen. If you really want to get out of here, you just have to go for it. Now. No matter what’s happening around you. You can’t wait for the planets to line up, otherwise you’ll die from old age never having done anything. You don’t wait for a chance to leave. You make your own chance.”
“Like you?”
“Exactly like me.” He nodded. “I wanted a career in bull riding and I knew it wasn’t going to happen waiting around here, so I left.”
“And you don’t have any regrets? You don’t wish you had stuck around just a little bit longer? Or come back sooner?”
Or told a stubborn old man that you loved him despite his flaws?
The notion wiggled its way into her head, but she shook it away. James hadn’t done one thing to earn her love. He’d never been there. Never cared for her the way a grandfather should have.
No, he didn’t deserve her love.
He never had.
“Surely there must be something that keeps you up at night,” she added when he shook his head in answer to her questions.
“No,” he murmured. “I don’t regret a thing.”
That’s what he said, but Callie didn’t miss the stiffening of his shoulders or the tightening of his lips. He hadn’t left the past behind, he’d run from it.
From the boy he’d been.
From her.
He was still running, refusing to see the truth, to accept it.
She thought of her grandfather’s room stacked with the endless copies of Reader’s Digest, the empty tubes of Bengay, the crosswords puzzles he’d loved so dearly. Everything was exactly the way he’d left it because she’d yet to go inside, to pack it away, to face her own truth.
Instead, she was making excuses. Stalling.
Hardly. It had been less than a week since his death. She simply hadn’t had the time to get the room packed away.
She would. Just as soon as she dealt with everything else.
She glanced around at the enormity of the attic, the boxes stacked here and there, the ancient furniture filled to the brim with mementos and trinkets and possibly—hopefully—the recipe that could save them both. “We really should get back to work.” Pushing from the window seat, she started for the first trunk. Sinking down to her knees, she reached for the latch only to feel him beside her.
“I lied.”
“About what?”
“I do have one thing that keeps me up at night.” He touched her then, pulling her to her feet until they stood toe-to-toe. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just stared down at her, his gaze, dark, intense, stirring. “You,” he finally murmured. “We never finished what we started that night and that’s my own damned fault.” He touched a strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. His callused thumb brushed her cheek and a shiver ripped through her. His blue eyes darkened to a deep, mesmerizing cobalt, the depths shimmering with a need that mirrored her own. “But that’s one regret I don’t have to live with.”
CHAPTER 19
The moment Brett slid his hands around her waist, Callie’s breath caught. Shock jolted through her as he pulled her flush against him, her breasts crushed against his chest, her pelvis cradling the hard bulge of his crotch.
The sudden contact shocked them both.
His gaze darkened.
A gasp caught on her lips.
“I shouldn’t have pulled away from you,” he murmured, his voice edged with a raw emotion that wrapped around her heart and squeezed tight.
“So why did you?”
“Because I wanted you so much that I got ahead of myself.”
“I don’t understand—” His lips caught the rest of her sentence as his mouth plundered hers in a kiss that was both deep and desperate.
His tongue slid into her mouth to stroke and tease. Strong hands pressed the small of her back, holding her close. She could feel every inch of his body, from chest to hips to thighs, his desire pressing hard and eager into her belly.
He smelled of leather and fresh air and a touch of wildness that teased her nostrils and made her breathe heavier, desperate to draw more of his essence into her lungs.
She wasn’t sure what happened next, she just knew that one minute she was standing in the middle of the attic, her body pressed to his, and the next she was following him down onto the cushioned window seat.
He sat down first. His hand caught her thigh, pulling her down onto his lap until her legs were on either side of his hips and she straddled him.
His lips went to her throat, nibbling and tasting, while his hands slid under her sundress to cup her buttocks and settle her more firmly over the bulge in his jeans.
She gasped and rocked against him, rubbing and stirring while his hands massaged the soft flesh of her bottom.
He slid a hand around, his fingers trailing over the lace triangle of her panties before dipping beneath the edge. One fingertip rasped against her clit and sensation ripped through her. Before she could catch her breath, he slipped a finger into the moist heat between her legs and plunged deep.
A moan burst from her lips as heat slammed over her, pulling her down and sucking the air from her lungs for a long, delicious moment.
“You’re so beautiful, Callie. So fucking perfect.” The deep rumble of his voice slid through her, slipping along her nerves, stirring them as intensely as the hand between her legs. She shimmied, pressing against his probing hand, clutching at his broad shoulders, her fingers fisting in the material of his soft T-shirt.
The heat burned fierce between them as they kissed and rubbed and worked each other into a frenzy. The air grew hotter, charged with the smell of sweaty bodies and the promise of hot, steamy sex.
She clutched at his shirt, pulling at the material, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against her own.
“Wait.” He caught her hand with his free one, stilling her movements. “Slow down, honey.” He took a deep breath and rested his forehead against hers. “We should get out of here. Go downstairs. Find a bed.”
He was right.
In the back of her mind, she knew she should put on the brakes. They weren’t kids in the backseat of some car, worried about making curfew. They were grown adults. This was going too far, too fast.
The thing was, she didn’t want to slow down, to give him time to pull away, to back out, to think.
She didn’t want history to repeat itself.
“Let’s just do it,” she murmured, grabbing at his T-shirt, hauling it over his head. She touched her palms to his chest, feeling the hard muscle dusted with silky hair. “Right here. Right now.”
The moment she said the words, he stiffened. Her heart pounded once, twice, and then he relaxed and pushed deeper into the wet heat of her body. Sensation drenched her, so sweet and consuming. She caught her bottom lip and her head fell back. This is what she needed. What she’d been waiting for.
He worked her for a few more minutes, making her sigh and gasp as she clutched at the hard muscle of his shoulders. He kissed her again, his tongue pushing deep in a kiss that made the room spin.
And then he pulled away.
“What are you doing?” she stammered, her head still reeling, her body trembling with need.
“I need to be up early tomorrow.” His gaze caught and held hers. “And you’re not ready for this.” He lifted her then, setting her on her feet as he pushed to his.
Her dress fell down around her wobbly legs and she prayed that the floor didn’t give out beneath her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t have to prove anything.” He reached for his T-shirt.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But she did.
This moment wasn’t about sating her lust for him. It was about proving to herself that she was worth his lust. She’d never been the prettiest or the thinnest or the sexiest. Boys had never fallen all over themselves for her, not the way they did for her sister Brandy. It wasn’t until Brett Sawyer had stared at her across the top of his calculus book that she’d felt really and truly beautiful.
And when he’d ditched her that night, she’d taken a major blow to her ego. One she’d never fully recovered from.
Because she hadn’t just liked him back then. She’d loved him.
She still did.
The truth registered as she watched him pull on his T-shirt, his biceps rippling as he slid the white cotton over his broad shoulders, down his ripped abdomen.
She loved him and if things went fast and furious now, she didn’t have to think about the all-important fact that he didn’t love her.
Not then and certainly not now.
“I shouldn’t have pulled away that night, but I’m glad I did. You weren’t ready for what was going to happen, any more than you’re ready for it now.” He stopped just a few inches shy of her, so close she could feel the heat rolling off his hard body. “It’s sex, Callie. Just sex.”
* * *
The minute Brett said the words, he wanted to kick his own ass. A crazy reaction because he knew he spoke the truth. This was sex, pure and simple. That’s all it could ever be and so he should just pull her close and get on with it.
He wasn’t going to disappoint her now the way he had back then. He wouldn’t haul ass the other way before they got to the really good stuff.
But he would hau
l ass. Eventually. He couldn’t stay in Rebel forever and while she knew that, he wanted to be sure she knew it.
He would walk away. It was inevitable and he wanted to make sure that she understood as much. That she accepted it. He wouldn’t take the decision from her by pushing her too fast. He wanted her to know what she was getting into.
To want him regardless.
Otherwise, she would end up hurt. And angry.
And he wouldn’t do that to her.
Not again.
“But I thought…” Her words trailed off and he waited. For her to issue the invitation. To make the next move. Instead, she caught her bottom lip and nodded. “I need to be up early, too.”
Brett gathered what little control he had left to keep from reaching for her, to saying to hell with right and wrong and simply feeling for the next few moments. Instead, he nodded. “We can keep looking tomorrow evening. Same time.”
She nodded and then reached for her purse.
Brett followed her down the attic stairs, watching her as she made her way to the front door.
“See ya,” she murmured, and then she walked out onto the front porch, down the steps.
The old truck rumbled in his ears as he slammed the door shut and headed for the kitchen. He was just reaching for a beer when his cell phone rang.
“Long time, no speak, cuz,” came the voice on the other end of the line when Brett said hello.
“Tyler?”
“The one and only.”
“What do you want?”
“My agent managed to get a sit-down with the Wrangler people. Rumor is that you’re not going to sign with them, so they’re looking to step up their game with yours truly.”
“There is no stepping up with you, McCall. You’re sloppy seconds if anything.”
“Whatever helps you sleep better at night.”
“Did you call just to gloat? Because I’m not in the mood.”
“I just thought you should hear it first before the press gets wind of it.”
“More like you’re trying to psych me out, but it’s not going to work. I’ve already got the contracts in hand. There’s no legal way they can change their mind and sign you instead.” The power rested in Brett’s hands. All he had to do was sign and it was a done deal.
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