A Bravo Homecoming

by Christine Rimmer

  She’d basked in his attention. And she didn’t really care if he was faking it for the sake of the family. She was having the best time of her life and she’d decided to just go with it. To love every minute and not worry about what would happen when the week was over. The end seemed a long way away. After all, it was just midnight, barely the beginning of the second day.

  She heard the hallway door open in his room. Because she’d left the adjoining door standing wide in invitation, it took only a glance over her shoulder to see the light go on when he flicked the switch in there.

  “Sam?”

  “In here.” She turned again to the window and the crescent moon swinging from a star out there in the night. The soft sound of his footsteps approaching thrilled her.

  He came and stood behind her. And he did just what she’d hoped he might do. He stepped close and his big arms came around her. She settled back against his solid strength with a sigh. He nuzzled her hair. She tipped her head to the side, anticipating the touch of his mouth against her neck.

  And then his lips were there, so soft and warm. “What are you doing, alone here in the dark?” His breath fanned her skin as he spoke.

  “Watching the moon.” She turned in his embrace, slid her hands up his hard chest. “Waiting for you.”

  He kissed her. There, at the window in the soft darkness, with only the muted light from the other room and the faint glow provided by the moon.

  When he pulled back, his eyes shone in the dimness. “It’s funny…”

  Something had changed in him. She felt it, knew it. She touched his lower lip, so soft compared to the rest of him. “Tell me.”

  “I roped you into coming here, into pretending we’re in love.”

  “Uh-uh, you didn’t rope me into anything. I came because you offered me the way to make some changes in my life. And also because you’re my friend and I’ll do just about anything to back up a friend.”

  He framed her face in his two hands. “Even something pretty stupid?”

  She gave a low chuckle. “Yeah. For a friend like you, I’ll even do stupid.”

  He traced her brows with a touch that lingered. “I want you to know…”

  “What?”

  “I think I’ve been played by my own game.”

  “Played?”

  “I think I…needed for this to be fake. At first. Otherwise, I couldn’t make myself take the leap. Take the chance.” He shook his head. “Am I making any damn sense at all?”

  She held his gaze. “You are making perfect sense.”

  He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “So…if this, with us, turned into something real…” Her heart expanded inside her chest. And the darkened yellow room suddenly seemed a magic and wondrous place, filled with light. He asked, “Could you maybe be into it?”

  She didn’t play coy. Coy wasn’t her style. “I could. Yeah. No maybe about it.”

  He sucked in a slow breath, said her name so softly. “Sam.”

  She commanded, “Kiss me again.”

  He didn’t need to be told twice. He took her mouth, his tongue delving in. She kissed him back, stoking the fire. And she pressed her body against him, drinking in the groan it brought from deep in his throat, feeling the hard ridge beneath his fly, the proof that he really did want her. Her breasts tingled and down below she felt so soft and hot, a melting kind of heat…

  When that burning kiss ended, he said, “I don’t want to push you…” His voice was low and rough.

  She gave a husky laugh. “Oh, yeah, you do.”

  His mouth quirked up at one corner. “All right. I do.” Then he grew serious. “I know you’ve been hurt, Sam.”

  She held his gaze. “We both have.”

  “And this is pretty sudden.”

  “Sudden? We’ve been friends for twelve years.”

  “You know what I mean.” He looked at her so intently. As though he could see into her heart and liked what he saw.

  She confessed, “Yeah, I do know.” Joy. She felt such joy. It filled her like a golden light, bright as the sun. She laid her hands on his chest again. She could feel his heartbeat. And the diamond he’d given her caught a random ray of light from the other room and glittered in the darkness.

  Somehow, the sight of that sparkling stone brought the doubts creeping in, turning the golden glow of her joy a little gray around the edges.

  This magic between us started with a great, big lie….

  And they were still lying to his family.

  He must have seen the shadows in her eyes. “What? Tell me.”

  She touched the side of his face. “I was thinking that maybe we need to stop lying to your family.”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Fine. We’ll tell them in the morning.”

  She winced. “You’re so brave. And all of a sudden, I’m a total coward.”

  “It’s your call.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “You always say that.”

  His eyes shone. “Because it is—and you can look at this way….”

  “I’m listening. Give me an excuse not to tell them. And make it a good one.”

  “All right. How about this? Tonight the lie is starting to become the truth.”

  She did like the sound of that. “Not bad.” She turned in his embrace, taking his arms, wrapping them around her again, resting back against him, absolutely loving how easy it was becoming for her—to touch him. To be touched by him.

  His lips brushed her hair. “I’m just saying we could wait awhile. See where this goes. Now it’s not about my family anymore. It’s about us. You and me.”

  “Us,” she echoed, loving the sound of that simple little word. She gazed out at the moon. Really, he did have a point. They weren’t lying to his family anymore—or they weren’t completely lying. Not if they were really together now.

  A lie is a lie, said a reproachful voice in the back of her mind.

  Sam shut her eyes with a sigh.

  Travis whispered in her ear, “Do me a favor.”

  She sighed again. “Anything. You know that.”

  “Don’t overthink it. Decide tomorrow.”

  He was right. About everything. They would bust themselves to his family. Or they wouldn’t.

  It would work out between them—or it wouldn’t.

  That was the beauty of falling for Travis. She trusted him so completely. He wasn’t Zachary Gunn. Travis was the right man to take a chance on.

  This, for them, tonight, was the real beginning.

  You didn’t ask how it would end when you were only at the beginning.

  You had to be willing. Truly willing. She saw that now. Willing to give yourself, willing to let the right man hold your heart in his hands.

  Willing to open yourself.

  Yeah, she might get hurt. Her heart could end up bruised and battered. But a heart, after all, was for loving.

  And loving was about what you gave, not what you got back.

  He took her shoulders, turned her to face him again. And he kissed her.

  Everything made sense then, when his mouth touched hers. She put away her doubts and kissed him back. She drank in the taste of him, reveled in the feel of him.

  A few moments later, he whispered in a prayerful voice, “I want to be with you, Sam. All night long.”

  “I want that, too.” She touched his hair, at his temples, loving the warmth of the silky strands against her fingertips, loving that he saw her—really saw her—as a woman now.

  “But I don’t want to rush you,” he said, so tenderly. “And I’ve got nothing. No condoms.”

  She gave him a slow smile. “We could probably manage to find some of those tomorrow….”

  “Tomorrow.” He made a low sound, almost a groan. “You’re right. We need to wait.” But his eyes said he didn’t want to let her go. And he didn’t let her go. He gathered her close again, kissed her some more.

  Long, endless arousing kisses.

  His hands caressed her back, moving low
er, cupping the twin curves of her bottom, bringing her tightly into him. So she could have no doubt of her effect on him.

  Sam loved every touch, every brush of his lips against her own, every stroke of that hot, hungry tongue of his. She didn’t want to stop any more than he did.

  But she knew that they had to.

  And so did he.

  With a low, bleak-sounding moan, he took her by the arms and put her away from him. His dark eyes blazed down at her. “Good night. I mean that.” He released her and stepped back. And then he turned sharply on his heel and started for the open door to his room.

  Sam realized then, as he walked away from her, that she couldn’t do it—she couldn’t let him go.

  In an instant, she’d kicked off her shoes, whipped her sweater over her head and reached behind her to unclasp her bra. “Travis.” She dropped the bra to the floor.

  He turned. Saw her standing there, naked from the waist up. His eyes flashed molten. He said something dark and intimate. She couldn’t make out the word. But she took his meaning. “Sam, come on. Don’t do this to me.”

  “You could…stay here with me tonight,” she said softly, feeling suddenly shy and way too vulnerable. “We could…be together in every way but that one.”

  He said her name again, raggedly, “Sam…” It was a plea.

  “Well, I mean…” It was hard to keep holding those burning eyes of his. But she did it, somehow. She didn’t look away. “If that’s all right with you. If that’s…something you would feel comfortable with.”

  “Comfortable.” He growled the word. And then he came back to her in three long strides. “You have no clue what you do to me, do you?”

  She felt a smile tremble across her lips. “Oh, I think I do. I think…you do the same thing to me.”

  He took her shoulders. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “I know exactly what you mean.”

  “You are so beautiful. You always were. Why didn’t I see it before? How could I have been so blind?”

  “Stop talking, Travis. Stop talking and kiss me.”

  He obeyed. He kissed her, so deeply, as his hands strayed, skimming the tops of her shoulders—and downward. He cupped her breasts.

  It felt wonderful. Perfect. Just right.

  She started walking, guiding him backward, toward the waiting turned-back bed. They fell across it, kissing and kissing, pulling at each other’s clothing, rolling, so she was on top. And then he was on top.

  There were clothes flying everywhere. His shoes hit the bedside rug, one thud. And then another. His sweater landed on the lamp, his socks…

  Who knew where his socks went?

  They were gone. And so were his jeans.

  And his silk boxers, too.

  She rolled again, to gain the top position. And she loved the way he felt, pressed so close, skin to skin. At last.

  He whispered her name as she kissed him.

  She touched him, running her hungry hands over his broad, hard chest, tracing the sexy trail of hair that ran down the center of him, over his flat belly, and lower, all the way to where the hair grew thick between his lean hips. Then she encircled him.

  He was so hard. She stroked him, still kissing him. He groaned his pleasure into her open mouth. She had no shame with him, no shyness, even though she’d only known one other man, one single time, before him.

  Her skirt was off and then so were the little panties that matched the hot-pink bra she’d dropped on the floor by the windows.

  And then he touched her. In her most secret place. She opened for him.

  And after that, well, she lost track of the world. Of time. Of everything.

  There was only his caress, his magical, tender fingers making her body feel weightless and yet heavy and lazy at the same time. Making her rock her hips up to him, making her beg him not to stop.

  Never, ever to stop.

  There were no barriers. She felt utterly safe—and yet in danger, too. A tempting sort of danger, the kind that couldn’t be denied.

  He urged her onward, into the expanding hot light of her own pleasure, until she felt herself hitting the peak. Oh, it was wonderful. The waves of completion rippled outward, from her center to the top of her head, the tips of her fingers, down all the way to her toes.

  Until there was nothing but his touch. And her body. And the slow, delicious fade into sweet satisfaction.

  A little later, she took him to the same place he had taken her.

  And then at last, side-by-side under the covers, cuddled up close, they whispered together.

  They talked about their work on the Deepwater Venture.

  She told him that yes, she was still sure that she wanted to try for a land job now. “This may sound crazy, but I’m thinking of going back to school. I mean, more than just a few classes. I have enough money put away to go for two years, straight through. With the online classes I’ve taken, I’ve almost got my bachelor’s degree already. I’m thinking I might like to become an accountant.”

  He blinked. “That’s a long way from being a tool pusher, Sam.”

  “I know, but that’s okay. It’s good. I’m pretty damn smart, you know?”

  “I do know.”

  “And I want to try something completely different.”

  “You want to get out of the oil business?”

  “Could be.” She rolled to her stomach, braced up on her elbows. “But then, the oil business needs accountants, too, right?”

  “Good point.” He slipped a tender hand around her nape, pulled her close and kissed her.

  When she lifted her mouth from his, she asked, “You think it’s a bad idea?”

  He brushed the side of his finger along the length of her arm. “I didn’t say that. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

  She took his lips again, a quick, hard kiss. “The more I think about the college thing, about really changing things up, the more I like it.”

  “I see.” Then he asked, “Will you spend Christmas with your dad?”

  With a happy sigh, she turned on her side, settling her head on the strong bulge of his shoulder, resting her hand lightly over his heart. It was a revelation, just to lie like this, together. Naked and warm under the covers.

  He nuzzled her hair. “I asked you a question.”

  “Who knows?” She turned her head into his body, pressed her lips to the curve where his shoulder met his broad torso. Then she snuggled back down again. “My dad likes to keep all his options open the past few years, since he sold the ranch. He and Keisha lead a footloose kind of life.”

  He traced a heart at her temple—at least it felt like a heart. “Maybe we could come here, spend Christmas at Bravo Ridge.”

  She kidded, “Next you’ll be asking me what I’m doing New Year’s.”

  “You know, I just might.” He brushed her hair back from her forehead. “Ted and Keisha can come, too.”

  “Right. Park the Winnebago out in front. So classy. Your mom and dad will love that.”

  He traced the outer curve of her ear. She loved the way he touched her, so casually—and yet so intimately. He said, “It’s a big ranch. Plenty of room for a Winnebago.”

  It seemed to her he was pushing kind of hard on the Christmas thing. She teased, “I thought you said you didn’t want to rush me….”

  He caught her chin with a gentle hand and held her gaze. “I lied.”

  She scolded, “You know, you’ve been doing way too much of that lately.”

  “You’re right. I’ll have to watch it.” He smiled. And then he kissed her.

  After that, they didn’t need words. They let their bodies do the talking. It was a very satisfying “conversation,” even if they did have to stop short of letting go completely.

  And it wasn’t until much later, as he slept in her arms, that she started thinking again—or maybe over-thinking. Whatever you called it, well, she couldn’t help but reconsider the issue she’d blown off when he first brought it up.
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br />   He’d said he didn’t want to rush her.

  And then, well, he did kind of seem to be doing just that—no, not with the lovemaking. She had made the choice on that. And she wasn’t sorry. Not in the least. She was thirty years old. About time she spent a beautiful night with her own personal Prince Charming.

  But really, he had done a head-spinning about-face that night. In the space of a few hours, he’d changed from a guy who wanted nothing to do with love—to someone who looked at her as though he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life at her side. A guy who wanted to invite her dad and his twenty-six-year-old girlfriend to the family ranch for Christmas.

  True, the change was a dream come true for her.

  Still, something about it didn’t seem right.

  Sam scowled into the darkness. Then again, maybe she was the one with the problem. He offered her exactly what she’d been longing for….

  And she ended up wide awake in the middle of the night, holding him close to her—and worrying that there must be something wrong with him.

  Chapter Eight

  In the morning, Sam’s worrisome doubts disappeared.

  Maybe it was waking up to find the thin almost-winter sun peeking through the drawn curtains—and Travis smiling at her.

  She pretended to grumble. “What are you grinning about?”

  He lifted up on an elbow, the gorgeous muscles in his arms and chest flexing as he moved. “I had a great time last night.” His hair looked slightly blenderized and his eyes were low and lazy.

  “Me, too.” She thought about the things they’d done last night. Then she thought how they would probably do those things again tonight—and more, if they managed to get their hands on a box of condoms. Such thoughts made a fluttery weakness down in the center of her, made her want to pull him close to her, keep him there, in her bed, all day long and into the night again.

  “You should see your face,” he said. “Your eyes are making promises. And your mouth is driving me wild.” He bent close—and bit her chin. It was a tender bite, more of a gentle scrape of his teeth against her skin, really. It didn’t hurt.

  But it did make that weakness in her center turn liquid. “Oh, Travis…”