Spurred On

by Sabrina York

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe to look good to their friends?”

  Oh, brother. He was beyond arrogant.

  But, if she was being honest with herself, she could see it—it annoyed the hell out of her, but she could see it.

  She stood with a huff. “Well, this has been fun, but I better go check on Hanna.”

  “Wait.” He caught her arm. And, when she scowled at him, “Please. This isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “What then?”

  “I wanted to talk about last night. How meaningful it was to me.”

  Oh, he had it down pat, the humble expression, the awestruck-tone, the puppy-dog eyes.

  “And?”

  He swallowed. “Well, was it good for you?”

  She patted him on the chest because he looked as though he could use some encouragement. “It was very good.”

  His Adam’s apple worked again. It almost seemed as though he was nervous, which was ridiculous. This was Cody. “Then what about tonight?”

  Everything in her seized. Tonight? Again? How freaking tempting was that?

  She cleared her throat. “We agreed on a one-night stand, remember?”

  “What’s a second night? In the grand scheme of things?”

  Damn, he was convincing. Or maybe it was her . . . her waning resolve.

  This always happened. He’d get close, close enough to touch, and she’d start melting into a pile of goo. In an attempt to rebuild her walls—or patch them at least—she shot him a carefree smile and said, “I’ll think about it.”

  He stared at her. A muscle bunched in his cheek. “Think about this,” he growled, and then yanked her into his arms.

  His kiss was quick, harsh, and hungry and she couldn’t help responding.

  As always, it was a rush of sensation, of taste and smell and magnificent touch. It took everything in her to detach from the spell he wove and push away.

  “Yeah. Okay,” she said. “I’ll think about that.” She patted his chest again as she turned away . . . but then she froze, because Porsche stood in the doorway, her eyes wide and wounded.

  She’d seen the whole thing. Or, at the very least, the one part that mattered.

  With a strangled sound, something like a sob, her friend whirled away.

  Hell.

  Sidney wrenched out of Cody’s hold and raced after her.

  What had she been thinking? How could she have completely forgotten about Porsche? How could she have forgotten that half the reason she was determined to avoid Cody was because her best friend was head over heels in love with him?

  What kind of horrible friend was she?

  Porsche was a tough kid. She could handle a lot. But her one tender spot was for Cody Silver. She’d been in love with him her whole life.

  And now, she’d seen Sidney kissing him. The thought made her stomach churn.

  She found Porsche pacing on the porch and headed to her side.

  Pity she had no idea what to say. Fortunately, she knew that in a time like this, it was better to let Porsche speak first. It didn’t take long.

  “I can’t believe you kissed him,” she wailed.

  Sidney winced. “Technically, he kissed me.”

  “I can’t believe he kissed you.” Porsche threw up her hands and paced some more.

  Sidney blinked. “Is that so unbelievable?”

  “He’s never kissed me.”

  “Only because of Ford, I’m sure.” Porsche’s brother had made it clear—to any man in town with a protuberance even resembling a penis—that his sister was off-limits.

  The suggestion caused Porsche to pause in her pacing. She tipped her head and tapped her chin. “Do you think?”

  “Of course. You’re beautiful and charming and everything. What man wouldn’t want to kiss you?”

  “All of them, apparently.”

  “Again, probably Ford’s fault.”

  “Don’t patronize me. We all know everything is Ford’s fault.”

  “True.”

  Porsche whirled on her heel and frowned at Sidney for a long, long while. As though she was willing her to make a confession. That was not going to happen. Finally she said, in a gut-wrenching tone, “Are you having an affair with Cody?”

  “No.” Not only no, but hell no. It was a one-night stand. Maybe a two-night stand. Not an affair.

  “Because if you are, I’d like to know.”

  “It’s not an affair.”

  For some reason, Porsche’s eyes widened. “There’s an it?”

  “A what?”

  “An it! You have an it with Cody?”

  Shit.

  She tried for a cool and composed tone. “An it is not an affair.”

  “Don’t try to bandy words with me.”

  “I’m not bandying anything. I swear to you, Cody and I are not having an affair. We’re not having an anything.” That was kind of a lie, but it was the kind of kind-of-lie you used when your friend’s eyes were threatening tears and you really didn’t want to admit the thing that would make her cry more. Besides. Whatever it had been with Cody was over. It had to be. For so many reasons.

  She pulled Porsche into her arms and patted her back and said, over and over and over again, “I swear, there’s nothing between me and Cody Silver.”

  And when he stepped out on the porch and heard her, she met his gaze with all the aplomb she could muster. Because even if a part of her didn’t want it to be true, it had to be.

  She was done with Cody.

  And when this party was over, she would return to Dallas and find some other guy and date the shit out of him.

  Chapter Eight

  There’s nothing between me and Cody Silver.

  God, those words burned a hole in his soul. How could she say that? How could she lie like that?

  Or worse, what if it was true? What if he was all alone in this crazy obsession? What if she’d just used him and tossed him aside?

  The thought made his ire rise.

  The hell. The hell any woman—especially Sidney Stevens—would use him.

  The irony was shattering.

  Sure, he’d dated a lot of women. And he’d been the one to break it off every time. But why had he broken it off? One reason and one reason only.

  She wasn’t Sidney.

  Somewhere deep in his heart and soul, he’d felt an emptiness only Sidney could fill.

  And now, now that he’d found the courage to admit as much to himself, now that she was here within reach again . . . this.

  There’s nothing between me and Cody Silver.

  Shit.

  Blindly, he made his way to the kitchen, dropped into a chair at the table, and buried his face in his hands.

  He couldn’t bear to watch her leave again. Couldn’t bear to face the future without her. He railed at himself for being such an idiot. For doing whatever it was that had turned her off. What a shame he had no idea what it was.

  He had no experience in wooing or winning women. Absolutely none.

  It had always come easy to him, too easy.

  Now that he desperately needed to turn this around, he didn’t have a clue how to proceed.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  His head shot up at the sound of his brother’s voice. He quickly wiped at his cheeks and then forced a smile. “Nothing.”

  “Really?” Cade eyed him warily. “You look tired.”

  “Yeah.” As good an excuse as any, he supposed.

  Cade pulled two coffee mugs from the cupboard and filled them both. He sat opposite Cody at the table and slid one of the mugs over.

  “Thanks.”

  “Hmm.” There was a long silence as Cade sipped at his coffee, and then he said, “Party’s going well.”

 
; “Yup.”

  “Guess we don’t need Claire after all.” They shared a chuckle. “Looks like Hanna and Logan are spending some time together.”

  “Yup.” Though the thought of Hanna reminded him of Sidney, and he winced.

  “I, ah, noticed you skipped out of the party early last night.”

  Shit. “Everything was finished.”

  “I know. But you usually don’t slip out early. What’s going on?”

  He could never keep anything from Cade. Still, he didn’t know how to explain all this. It was too . . . humiliating.

  “I noticed Tibby slipped out early too. Anything you want to tell me?”

  “Yeah.” He forced a wry smile. “I want to tell you I wasn’t with Tibby last night.”

  “That’s a relief. Who were you with?”

  “None of your beeswax.”

  Cade tipped his head to the side and smiled icily. “It is my beeswax if you’re slipping away and leaving me with all the extra work.”

  “We have staff for that.”

  “Was it Sidney?”

  Why the sound of her name made him wince again was a mystery. And a dead giveaway.

  “Yeah, I thought so—”

  “Did you?” Damn Cade and his incessant . . . thinking.

  “Since the last time I saw you, you were smooching with her in the wings.”

  “Hardly smooching.”

  “It looked like smooching.”

  “It wasn’t smooching.”

  “Okay.” Cade shrugged. “Dry humping.”

  Cody’s brain fizzled. His lips worked. His words came out in a howl. “Why were you watching?”

  “I wasn’t watching so much as seeing. It’s not like it was intentional. But the facts are clear. You were with her last night, and here you are this morning, mooning in the kitchen—”

  “I’m not mooning—”

  “Which leads to the question, what happened?”

  “What makes you think anything happened?”

  In response, Cade shot him that annoying omniscient look, something calm and cool that insinuated he did, indeed, know everything. Or that he wasn’t buying anyone’s bullshit. It was an expression Cody was very familiar with. Too familiar with to bother with any prevarication.

  “I thought we had something. She insists we don’t.”

  To his credit, his brother didn’t laugh, but his lips did quirk a little. “That’s tough.”

  “It is. I . . . really like her.”

  “You like lots of women.”

  “I like all women.” There was no doubt about that. “But Sidney is different.”

  “Because she doesn’t throw herself at you?”

  There was that. As much as it irritated him, he liked having to work a little harder. “It’s more than just that.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I’ve always had a thing for her.”

  Cade leaned back in his chair and stared at him. “Always?”

  “Since high school.”

  “Really?”

  “I always knew if we ever had a second chance, that would be it. We’d be together—”

  “Wait.” Cade gaped at him. “A second chance? I don’t remember you ever dating her.”

  Shit. He should watch his words. Cade never missed anything. It was probably all that military training or something. “We had a . . . thing.”

  “A thing?”

  “Yeah. Between Susie and Tibby.”

  “You dumped her for Tibby? Smooth move.”

  Again, another wince. Yeah, he was an ass. He could hardly tell his brother why he’d picked Tibby. Hardly admit out loud that that night with Sidney had panicked him. That his feelings had been so strong, so intense, so raw, he’d had to run.

  Stupid, idiot dumbass.

  Because those feelings had never gone away. They’d just burrowed into his soul and festered. And now, now when he might have had a chance with her, he didn’t.

  “Well, what are you going to do now?”

  “What options do I have?” None, really. Just watch her walk away.

  “You have a chance to change her mind.”

  “Do I?”

  “Okay, you have some time to change her mind. She’ll be here until tomorrow.”

  “She isn’t interested.”

  Cade huffed a laugh. “Isn’t she?”

  Cody stilled and shot a look at his brother. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve seen the way she looks at you, when you’re not paying attention. And hell, I saw the way she was . . . climbing you last night.”

  She had been rather passionate.

  “I think you should give it another try.” Cade shrugged. “After all, what the hell do you have to lose?”

  Oh, God. He was right.

  He could sit here and mope, or he could find her, corner her, and seduce her again.

  And maybe, if he was convincing enough, or if he fucked her hard enough, she’d realize they were meant to be together. Or, at the very least, realize the passion between them was worth the risk.

  ***

  Filled with resolve, he set out on a hunt for Sidney. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find her. He suspected she was hiding from him. Tibby Pucey, on the other hand, was not.

  She cornered him in the hallway on the second floor when he was knocking on Sidney’s door in hopes she was in residence.

  “There you are, Cody,” Tibby cooed. It wasn’t the coo of a peace-loving dove, but the cry of a hungry raptor. A pterodactyl, perhaps.

  It took everything in him not to run.

  Now, Tibby was a beautiful girl—her mama had been a Miss Texas at one point—but looks weren’t everything. To his credit, he hadn’t know her true nature when he’d asked her out all those years ago. If he had, he’d never have made that mistake.

  It was one he continued to regret. Right along with the predatory glint in her eye.

  “Hey Tibby,” he said in as casual a tone as he could muster. “How are you enjoying the party?”

  She put out a lip. “Not very much.”

  “Really?” He frowned. He took customer satisfaction very seriously. “What’s wrong?”

  “Well, for one thing, you never came to your room last night.”

  A shiver walked down his spine. “I, ah, what?”

  She stepped closer—too close—and batted her lashes. “I waited for you.”

  “You waited for me in my room?” He’d suspected as much, but the confirmation made him feel no better.

  “In your bed,” she whispered. “Naked.”

  Oh God. He had to remember to change the sheets.

  “I was disappointed when you didn’t come . . .”

  Well, he had. In another room, another bed, but she probably didn’t want to hear about that.

  “Tibby, you know the third floor is off-limits to guests.” There were signs posted everywhere.

  “I know.” She eased closer and stared up into his eyes. Her hand closed on his crotch.

  He grabbed her wrist. “That’s, ah, off-limits too.”

  “Don’t be coy. I know you want it.”

  How on earth could he wriggle out of this without offending her? She was a customer, after all. They had a rule about not offending customers.

  But honestly. She was one truly offending customer.

  “Look, Tibby—” His protest was cut off when the door behind him—the one she’d backed him up against—opened and he tumbled inside. He’d never been so relieved to fall on his ass.

  Because he stared up into the one face he’d been hoping to see. “Ah. Sidney.” He reached up a hand and she helped him to his feet. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “You have?” She didn’t seem pleased.

  “You have?” Tibby wasn’t pleased
either. Her gaze cut from Cody to Sidney and back again. Her lip curled.

  “There’s a problem with your booking.” He grasped at the first straw that popped into his mind.

  Sidney plopped her fists on her hips and frowned at him. “What problem?”

  “Let’s go to the office. I can explain it to you there.”

  “Why can’t you explain it to me here?” The glimmer in her eye made it clear she knew damn well this was a desperate ploy to escape Tibby, and from her smirk, he suspected she was not inclined to help.

  She had to help.

  He was in dire danger of being mauled.

  So he took her arm and guided her into the hall and toward the stairs. Though she sputtered in protest, he could not let her escape—except to close her door. He needed her, desperately.

  “See you tonight, Tibby,” he said with a wave, but he didn’t bother to look back at her because he knew what he’d see. Tibby Pucey, denied what she wanted, was not a pretty sight.

  “Honestly,” Sidney muttered as they made their way down the stairs. “Did you really have to involve me in that tawdry scene?”

  “What tawdry scene?” he asked, though he knew. “Were you listening at the door?”

  “You two weren’t exactly whispering.”

  “She was manhandling me.”

  “Karma’s a bitch.”

  He whirled on her as they came to the bottom of the staircase. “That’s not fair. I’ve never done anything to lead her on.”

  “Except date her.”

  “One date. That’s all it was.”

  “It was enough.”

  “And it was ten years ago. Ten years ago. I was just a dumbass kid—”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Hardly deserving of a lifetime of being hounded by her.”

  “She’ll probably lose interest when you start losing your hair.”

  He gaped at her in horror. His hand whipped to his head, a manic instinctual denial. “Losing my hair?”

  Sidney smirked at him. She was an evil wench. “Did she really go to your room last night?” she asked.

  “Apparently.”

  For some reason, she chuckled. “I have to say, I enjoyed seeing that look of fear in your eyes just now.”

  He assumed she was referring to Tibby, not his hair. “I was hardly afraid.” A total lie.