Rugged and Restless

by Saylor Bliss

  “Christine?”

  It was my name. It was a question. It was a promise.

  I understood. I could say no. I could stop him right there and that would be the end of it. The power to choose the evening’s outcome was completely in my hands.

  Except I wasn’t certain the power to choose had ever been in either of our hands.

  There was no seduction in his eyes, only tenderness. My heart thumped against my chest. My eyelids burned with unshed tears I was at a loss to explain. I might think about it later, but just for that moment I wanted it to be us, only us. So I held his gaze, liking the way he was looking back at me, enjoying the awakening sensations I had never expected to feel again.

  He held me with a look, a silent question hanging between us. Slowly I nodded, stepping closer.

  “You’re sure?” His voice was husky, his eyes dark with desire.

  “Never more sure in my life.” I leaned up and touched my mouth to his, running my tongue along his bottom lip, enjoying the hint of beer that lingered.

  He took over the kiss, branding me with his desire. It wasn’t nearly enough, and I moaned, slipping my arms around his neck, straining against him, parting my lips and opening myself to him.

  Energy surged between us, lighting a fire of fervid desperation. His fingers tickled, as they settled at my waist, and then pushed beneath my blouse and lifted the hem. I drew back slightly, tugging on his shirt, where it met his jeans, until it came free. His skin was hot under my palms and something deep inside me answered with explosions of desire. I took a step back and fumbled at his buttons, giving a little cry of triumph as they came free one by one. He raised my blouse and air blowing through the open window nipped at my skin. Then he whisked it over my head and tossed it aside.

  I eased down onto my bed, pulling Travis with me. Bracing himself on his elbows, he dipped his head and pressed molten kisses to my neck, my left shoulder, trailing lower until his mouth rested in the valley between my breasts. A shudder raced through him, inciting an answering tremor within me.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Travis

  On the coffee table, where I’d emptied my pockets, my cell phone hummed with an incoming call. Ignoring it, I nudged the scrap of lace covering her breast aside. With Christine in my arms, nothing else mattered.

  I wanted to take my time, savoring the moment at the brink of love. She was everything to me. She filled my empty places and made my broken places stronger. She balanced my strengths and weaknesses. I didn’t understand it, but her name was somehow burned into my soul. She moaned and arched into my touch as I teased one pebbled pink bud with the tip of my tongue.

  The cell phone buzzed again, this time with the tone indicating a message. Christine stiffened and I groaned. I should have turned the damn thing off. She’d gone completely still beneath me, applying the brakes on our romantic interlude, but I didn’t move. If I touched the phone just now, I’d probably smash it in frustration.

  The lamp next to the bed cast a warm radiance over her face. Cradled in my arms, she was soft, contented… vulnerable. What would it be like to see her face every night before I drifted to sleep, and again when I woke up in the morning? I wanted to find out. Would she want the same thing? If we weren’t going to make love, at least we could indulge in some pillow talk before I called it a night and headed for home.

  “Ah, Bluebell…” I sighed, wrapping a strand of dark hair around my forefinger. “I’m going to want a lot more than just one night. If I spend the rest of my life getting to know you, I’ll still find something new every day.”

  She opened her eyes and smiled. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  As her assurance washed over me, my heart began to race. They were just words. She would have no idea that, to me, they were false promises. Only words. My breath caught in my throat, and liquid fire flushed through my system, only to be doused by instant ice water flowing in its wake. I hadn’t experienced such a reaction since PTSD had dictated my life. The tremors would come next. I didn’t want to have to explain everything to her. Not yet. I squeezed my eyes shut, nearing panic, fighting to force the beast back into the darkness, where it belonged.

  Christine poked me in the side. “Your cell’s going off again.”

  The trigger was broken, but the episode left me shaking. I rolled to the side, allowing her to sit, and drew a calming breath. I made no move to retrieve my cell. I probably wouldn’t be able to walk. Maybe she hadn’t noticed my lapse into mental instability.

  Gentle fingers trailed a whisper of a touch along my jaw. “Travis?” I sighed. She’d noticed.

  Christine

  Travis’s eyelids fluttered open, and the shadows in them tore at my heart. “Travis, what’s on your mind?”

  I’d barely finished speaking and already he was closed down, his expression shuttered against my concern. His groan was followed by a slow smile. Heat replaced the darkness in his eyes. “You.”

  Apparently, some things were still off limits. Arguing the point would be useless, so I simply waited and watched.

  His breathing slowly returned to normal, but he showed no inclination for talking. Satisfied that the shadows were fading, I bent over and pressed a kiss to his forehead. As I drew back, his hand snaked out and grabbed me by the wrist, keeping me with him. He flipped my hand over and pressed a kiss to my palm.

  Green eyes met mine. “I lived away from here for a long time. Not everything is about my history here, and there are some things that are hard to talk about.”

  An abrupt memory of the crystal angel dangling from Travis’s rearview mirror stalled my heart. I smiled and looked away, putting a mental Band-Aid on the little stab of pain as I backed off. Didn’t I have my own painful past, after all?

  “I see.” I disentangled my hand from his grasp and stood, unwilling to share this particular vulnerability. Maybe it was a good thing his cell had interrupted us. He wasn’t ready for a relationship and I wasn’t ready if he wasn’t being a hundred percent open. “How about we check out that dessert then?”

  I righted my bra, aware of my body’s protest at the unsatisfied hunger. His eyes followed mine, as I located my blouse and pulled it over my head. But I might as well preserve a bit of dignity. I stumbled to the kitchen, on wooden marionette legs, and yanked open the freezer.

  My hand was on the carton of chocolate ice cream, when the first tear spilled over. What was I doing? Had I just become the other woman in a messed-up triangle with Travis and his missing woman?

  Strong arms stole around me from behind and I stiffened against his touch.

  “Hey, what is it?”

  Gentle hands settled on my shoulders and turned me away from the refrigerator. He’d pulled on his shirt, but hadn’t fastened it or tucked it in.

  I couldn’t meet his eyes. “Nothing. I thought I had some whipped cream but I can’t find it.”

  Placing the backs of his knuckles beneath my chin, Travis tilted my head up. He pressed a gentle kiss against my lips but I held myself rigid. When he looked into my eyes again, I noted the sadness in his.

  “We’re moving too fast,” he murmured. I nodded. “I think —maybe yes. I’m sorry. I must be driving you crazy. Hot, cold, yes, no.”

  His thumb worked back and forth across my cheek. It was a long moment before he spoke. “Let’s take a step or two back.”

  A wry chuckle slipped from my lips. “Is that even possible?”

  Green eyes lit when he smiled. “Bluebell, I’m counting on it.”

  “I don’t know what’s happening here,” I whispered.

  His smile deepened. “I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love.” My heart lodged in my throat, threatening to explode outward. “Don’t say that.”

  Travis looked like he wanted to say more but his mask floated down instead. “Okay.” He released me and bent to look in the refrigerator. “Let’s check out your dessert menu here. Ah, here you go.” He held up a blue and red can. “One spray can of whipped cream. What
else do you have?”

  The moment was gone, the shut-out complete. I gestured toward the sofa. “Sit down. I’ll find something.”

  Raising one eyebrow, he looked between me and the sofa, then shrugged and padded across the floor. A hiccup of emotion bubbled out, as I realized we’d been in such an intimate position, yet neither of us had removed our boots. That could well have ended up in an even more awkward moment. I smiled and set about gathering some dessert, not the best substitute for mind-blowing sex, but it’s all I had at the moment. Then I followed Travis to the couch.

  “Should I be worried about the reasons for your smile?” he asked as I knelt on the edge of the sofa.

  “Surely a big strong man such as yourself isn’t afraid of a woman bringing him dessert.”

  He nodded at the bounty I was laying out on the table in front of us. “No bowls, Bluebell, and only one spoon? Makes me wonder if I’m going to be the dessert you promised.”

  Holding up the can of whipped cream, I laughed maniacally. “You found out my devious plan.” I shook the can then made as if to lather his body with it.

  “First I’ll spray your belly, and then—” His arm snaked out and grabbed my wrist, tugging me down onto the sofa next to him.

  “Oh!” I landed awkwardly, half against Travis’s chest.

  “Stop teasing me and feed me the dessert you promised when you lured me into your lair, woman! I’m starving over here.”

  My sat, laughter on my lips. “We can’t have that, especially when I have access to multiple types of chocolate. It doesn’t cure everything, but it helps. Let me show you.”

  After popping open the top of the ice cream carton, I sprayed on a good measure of whipped cream, then added a handful of strawberries and topped it all with a drizzle of chocolate syrup. After swirling the spoon through the mix, I aimed it for Travis’s mouth.

  Travis

  Fruity sweetness and chocolate splashed across my palate, and I moaned out loud at the sugar overload.

  “See? See?” Christine angled a look, studying me as I chewed. “I told you it was good. Deny me now.”

  Her almost childlike giddiness captivated me and I couldn’t resist teasing. “It’s not a combination I’d have chosen, since I was raised on the simple Pine Haven fare…” I nodded and cocked my head sideways, pretending to consider the taste. “… but yeah, it’s okay.”

  A smile worked its way onto her face as she gathered more of the icy confection on her spoon.

  My mouth watered in anticipation.

  But the second bite disappeared into Christine’s mouth, and she sucked on it like a lollipop. Childlike? Giddy? Forget those! The sensual siren in front of me rolled the spoon over and thoroughly licked the back, keeping her eyes on me, as she caught a stray smear of whipped cream from her upper lip with the tip of her tongue.

  My blood went from pleasantly warm to boiling, in the space of a breath. Maybe I should rethink my dismissal of her proposed alternate use for the whipped cream.

  The strident blare of an incoming call on my cell phone jarred the thought out of my head, and I frowned, already hating the caller. “Ignore it.”

  But she was already leaning forward. “It could be important. Your dad or Grant.” I checked the phone. It wasn’t my father or my brother, so I tossed the phone aside without answering. “It’s just a friend who’s been looking into something for me.”

  Her hand, already lifting another spoonful of chocolate and strawberry, hesitated. She lowered the spoon back into the carton and cast an assessing stare in my direction.

  Too many interruptions, too many secrets between us. I didn’t want to talk about my reasons for leaving Pine Haven, or about Mac, or my time away. And I really didn’t want to talk about the search for Jackie Hollow that had consumed the last several years of my life. Not tonight. I was finished looking, and if I hadn’t been with Christine when Dan had called, I would have told him so. But from the sadness in her eyes before she looked away, she already knew who the call was about.

  “You’re quiet,” I murmured, willing her to meet my gaze.

  “What happens when you find her?” Christine studied the ice cream a moment longer then flashed a look up at me. “What happens to you and me?”

  I blew out a breath. Easing the carton of ice cream and the spoon from her fingers, I set them on the coffee table next to my phone. “Christine.” I took her hand and kissed the tip of each finger. “I… don’t want to be with her. Once, I thought —maybe. But she wasn’t there —and now…”

  Chapter Thirty

  Christine

  The metallic taste of blood tainted my tongue. Crap! I’d bitten my cheek. But the ache blooming in my heart soon overshadowed the sharp pain in my mouth. Did Travis understand what he was saying? That he was with my only because the other woman had disappeared from his life?

  “Travis, please.” Stop talking. He shook his head. “She’s very special to me and I’ll tell you about her sometime. But I’m with you. I want to be with you. She’s never going to be an issue between us.” He pressed his lips to my palm. “I know who I’m with, too, Christine Willow.”

  I regarded him in silence, caught like an animal in the glare of oncoming headlights, unable to move, unable to do anything but wait for the disastrous impact that could only bring death. Yes, he knew who he was with; knew he was with his second choice… and had just admitted that fact out loud. The fist around my chest slowly squeezed the air from my lungs.

  He moved his mouth to my wrist where he pressed tiny kisses. “Sweetheart… you’re amazing… you’re beautiful… you’re everything I never knew I wanted and never hoped I would find. Never deserved to find. The dream of her is nothing compared to the reality of you.”

  I blinked. Had he really just replaced those looming headlights with sunshine and rainbows? I must be out-of-my-head crazy. How could I believe him? Did he even really know what he wanted?

  He held my hand against his cheek and I looked into his eyes, promptly tumbling into the vulnerability he revealed for me. I still had all the power. I held our future. Could I live with the revelation that I was his second choice? In a sudden moment of perfect clarity, I recognized my own weakness; nothing mattered because I didn’t want to live without him.

  I inhaled deeply, drawing in the spicy woodsy scent of him that had become so familiar. I slid my hand around to the back of his neck and played with the soft skin at his hairline. Almost in slow motion, I advanced, hesitating just a hair’s breadth from touching his lips. Travis remained still, waiting, I understood, for me to make the next move.

  “Will you hold me tonight?” I brushed my lips across his, just a hint of a touch. “I just need some time.”

  “Darlin’, take as long as you need and I’ll hold you for as long as you let me.”

  I awoke to find the room cloaked in darkness. Whispers and rustles of stealthy movements jolted my heart rate and I rolled over. Warmth and a woodsy scent clung to the sheets. Travis. I eased out a breath, alarm replaced by curiosity. “Where are you going?”

  “Shh… Go back to sleep.” He laid a tender kiss on my forehead, brushing back my hair. “I’m going to help Grant with the stock. He’s been doing it all on his own for too long.”

  I moved up onto my elbows and pushed the switch on my bedside lamp, blinking as the light cut a path to my optic nerves. “Let me help.”

  But Travis shook his head and turned the lamp back off. “No, go back to sleep. I’ll be by later. Promise.”

  “I don’t—” I didn’t want him to leave. I didn’t want him to leave without me. But he seemed determined to go back to the ranch alone and it wasn’t fair to push.

  He bent and nuzzled my ear and then kissed me, slow and deep. “Bluebell, in case I forgot to tell you,” he whispered, pulling away, “I’m real glad you decided to come to Wyoming.”

  Then he was across the floor and out the door, closing it behind him with a soft click, and I was alone. As usual. Doubt edged its way bac
k into my consciousness. Would Travis ever really love me the way he loved his mystery woman?

  The aftershocks still rocked the building. He had to be feeling them, too.

  “Still here, Angel,” he assured me after a strong jolt.

  I let out the breath I’d unconsciously been holding.

  “Listen,” he said, enunciating the word with care. “I’m not —giving up. But I want you to promise me something. Can you do that?”

  “Maybe.” I lost the battle to keep my voice steady.

  “I was thinking about the song you sang for me. I want you to live, Angel. To really live, like the song says. Whatever happens here or —doesn’t, I want you to promise you’ll do something you want to do. If you like singing, I want you to sing every day. If you want to travel, promise me you’ll travel. And if you want to settle down, do it in a place you love. With or without me, I want your life to be good.” For the first time in a couple of hours, Mick’s voice was steady and strong. “Can you promise me?”

  I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath. The request was obviously important to him. “Yeah, I can promise that. Mick, is there someone I can call for you?”

  He was silent for a long time. “No. There’s no one. But thanks anyway, Angel. And thanks for staying with me.”

  “I like talking to you. So get used to me. I’m sticking.” As a wave of exhaustion hit, I pulled off my sweater and balled it up on the desk, leaning into it and using it as a pillow.

  The radio squawked again.

  “Mick?” I shoved the sweater aside and sat up straight, rubbing my eyes.

  “Yeah, it’s me. Angel? They’re not coming for me, are they?”

  “They are, Mick. They are, I promise. But there’s a lot of building to get through.”

  “It’s okay, Angel. We’re trained for this. Have to be realistic here. I smell smoke and it’s getting stronger. I don’t think the fire’s contained. And I’ve got no O2 left in my tank.”