by Stacy Dawn
She looked exquisite with her dark hair wild upon her shoulders and the sheet getting lower with each excited movement.
“Yep.” He played the opening bars of the second song his muse had inspired. The first he’d held for himself...until he shared it for the first time just tonight.
Lizzie’s grip on his arm tightened and the notes melded in a clump. “Grey! That song was nominated for an Academy of Country Music Award.” She released him with a toss of her hands, sat back, and pushed a few playful strands from her face. “Wow.”
“Yeah, I know. Kinda cool, huh?” He set the guitar down on the bureau and hung his clasped hands between his legs. “Didn’t win, but my management company was pretty happy.” He gestured a hand around them. “Not to mention, it paid for a bit of an upgrade on the seasonal living arrangements.”
“I knew you could do it,” she said on a breath full of pride. Her smile radiated sunshine in the dimly lit room.
The pressure point in his chest expanded, forcing his hand up to her cheek. Touching Lizzie was like reconnecting with a part of himself. Maybe that was why he had a hard time keeping his hands off her, even a simple touch like this.
Her hand covered his. “Any more I’d know?”
“Well, there is one out right now by a young new artist, ‘Boots on the Hardtop’?” He grinned at the instant sparkle in her eyes.
“You’re kidding! My daugh-g...dawg...loves that one.” Her eyes squeezed shut and her head dipped with a little shake. “Yeah, my, uh, dog.”
The blush was cuter than hell.
Grey quirked a brow and used his thumb to raise her chin. “Your dog?”
“Um...yeah.” Though she smiled, it wasn’t with quite the same fervent excitement as earlier. “Sure, it’s got a great beat. Dogs...little children...everyone loves that song.”
“Well, I guess that’s what they call appealing to the mass markets.”
She chuckled in a funny twitter, rubbed one hand nervously against her thigh and clutched the sheet with the other. “How, uh, did you learn to play?” she asked in a pitchy, perky tone as she nodded to the guitar.
Grey wondered how long it would take to figure a woman like her out. At the moment, he had no clue what was running through that pretty head of hers. He grinned. Might just be worth the time.
He reached back for the instrument. “An old rodeo clown taught me back when I was a kid. Wasn’t too hard.”
“I don’t know.” She gathered the sheet to free her legs and crossed them in front of her. “Looks like it’d take a while to get the hang of it.”
“Nah. Here, scoot over.” Grey tapped her shoulder for emphasis and waited until he had enough space to sit behind her, one leg bent on the bed and the other hung over the side. He pulled Lizzie into the crook of his legs and brought the guitar over her head to rest in her lap. “Okay, put one hand here,” he instructed, tapping the neck.
Her shoulders shook with a small chuckle, but she did as instructed, clutching the stem like a butcher knife.
Grey laughed and wrapped his hand around hers. “Ease up there a little. Relax your hand.” He rubbed hers gently and pried her fingers, moving them where they needed to be for the first chord. Her hair brushed against his face, the scent of vanilla teasing his senses. He inhaled a deep breath, rubbing his nose in the fragrant strands as he moved his head from one side of hers to the other. It took him a moment to readjust and focus on her other hand.
She adjusted to his position and shifted back slightly, fitting herself into the curve of his jeans.
He clenched his jaw, holding still. That’s the one thing he remembered most—Lizzie fit. There was a significant difference in their heights when they stood, but when he held her, when they were close like this, they just fit. No other woman ever came close.
Through her back against his chest, he felt her breaths grow shorter, shallower with every movement. Did she feel it too?
“Now what?”
The breathy question startled him, so engrossed was he in her body. Grey cleared his throat of the sudden need; hard to do when the guitar was the only thing holding the sheet to her breast.
With a sure hand, he followed the curve of her arm down from her shoulder, over her elbow, and down to tangle their fingers together. “Try putting your fingers here.” He moved hers over the stem, marking them in a A chord. “Hold them firm but not too tight.” He set her other fingers up just over the top of the strings. “Now, bring them down gently.”
“Like this?” She did as instructed and a weak A tangled out.
“Not quite.” Grey smiled at the little pout protruded from her profile. “It’s okay to be firm. Take control,” he encouraged. “Think of the guitar as a lover you want to please.”
Her head turned slowly back, the dark hair catching in the scruff on his chin. He rubbed against the thick mass, breathing deeply of Lizzie’s enchanted scent. The catch in her breath and shift of her hips sent waves of heated longing straight to his groin.
His hand closed over hers and he strummed the strings with her this time. He kissed her cheek and moved her hand again but she pulled out of the grasp to rest her hands atop his. The gentle urgency of her fingers against his told him what to do. She curved her head around, robbing him of the warmth of her cheek, but quickly placing her lips beneath his. Joined hand to hand, lip to lip, soul to soul, he strummed out the chords, pulling from the instrument small groans and gasps…just like a lover.
Moments later, the guitar forgotten on the floor, he played her body with the same sure strokes, drawing from her the sweet music made only for lovers.
Chapter Seven
From the middle of the bed, Lizzie’s shoulders shook with laughter at the story he’d just told her about an angry goat, a trough full of rain water, and a particularly annoying neighborhood kid. Her bare feet were crossed and propped on the headboard, and the sheet rode high on her thighs and low on her chest. They’d been talking and laughing about nothing for over an hour now. Grey tilted his lips and simply stared. God, she’s beautiful. Her blue eyes animated every smile and her laughter bordered on drunken wood sprite. He couldn’t get enough.
She held her stomach and glanced toward him where he leaned on his elbow near the head of the bed—a perfect position to see all her adorable qualities.
“You were one precocious kid, Grey Wulfsen.” Lizzie giggled as his hand roamed inside the sheet at her thigh.
“What about you? Anybody ever tick you off?” Somehow he couldn’t see this laughing sprite angry.
She rolled her head and stared at the ceiling, an evil tilt to the side of her mouth. “Well, there was this guy in college.”
Grey’s brow darted up; his hand stayed on her hip. “What’d he do?” he asked, jaw tight.
“The twerp cheated on my roommate.”
“Aaaah.” His jaw loosened and the burn in his stomach eased. He ignored what both meant to watch her shift and turn toward him.
The sheet tangled around her breasts and plumped the tops over the white material as she leaned on her elbow. “Cara was devastated. Thought the guy was going to take her to a cabin up north and turned out he was already shacked up with a ski bunny.” She tapped a finger to the bed. “We went down to his car, rolled all the windows down, and cranked the radio up loud—after we parked it on his baseball coach’s front yard.” Lizzie rolled to her back and pulled her legs up in a belly laugh that shook her from head to toe. “He was washing out jock straps for a month!”
Grey laughed and sat up. “Remind me never to piss you off.”
She swung her head toward him and pointed a finger. “And don’t you forget it.”
He relaxed his arms over his knees and chuckled down at her glowing features as her laughter faded to a soft chuckle.
“I don’t think I’ve ever told anybody that story. Not that they’d believe me. I don’t think I’ve done anything that crazy since. Well, I guess this counts...I mean...”
The tips of her cheeks ti
nged with red and she bit her lip. Grey chuckled and transferred to his stomach. With his head next to hers, he leaned over and kissed her, enjoying a good nibble on her lips.
When he pulled back, his finger grazed her shoulder and he was more than content just to look at her.
“Stop,” she said a few moments later. Her nose wrinkled and she fidgeted with the sheet to pull it higher on her chest and lower on her thighs.
Grey chuckled. “Stop what?”
“Staring at me.”
“I like staring at you. I enjoy watching you.” He bent and kissed her nose. “Do you know you have a tiny dimple that comes out when you laugh?”
“Do not.”
“Do too. Right...there.”
She chuckled and slapped his hand away, but not before he caught her gaze.
Her smile softened. “I’m not used to being stared at. No one in town really sees me. Sometimes I even think I’m invisible.”
A twinge attacked his chest. A small knot of sadness that someone so amazing could ever be overlooked.
He brushed his hand over her hair and watching his fingers tangle in the sex-tossed mass. “I see you.” He glanced down into wide blue eyes. “You can’t hide from me. I see everything.”
Grey slid a hand beneath her neck, brought her head up to meet his lips, and showed her just how he saw her.
When he lay her head back down on the pillow, a slow smile grew on her lips and her eyes sparkled like dark sapphires.
“Stay with me.”
Her lips stilled beneath the kiss he dipped down to take.
“What?” Lizzie glanced around the trailer and frowned as if just realizing it was morning.
“Stay with me today.”
“I-I...can’t.” She sat up, pulled the sheet higher, and avoided his gaze.
Something happened to his dream-girl when the sun rose. He could feel her drawing away. Not this time, sweetheart.
Grey sat up with her and pushed her hair back. “Just one day, that’s all I’m asking.... You owe me at least that for running out on me last time.” It was a low blow to send out such a blatant guilt trip, but he felt his time running out. There was still so much he didn’t know about her—pretty much everything outside of this trailer.
Once again she pulled out from beneath his kiss and crawled from the bed. “I shouldn’t...I can’t...I have...work.”
“I understand work, I do. I’m just asking for this day. Can’t you blow off one day? Call in sick.” The word “lovesick” flowed through his head. He quickly dismissed it to reach for her arm. Her skin formed goose bumps under the pads of his finger.
“I don’t know. I have other...obligations.”
A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. His jaw tightened. “Does it have something to do with why you left last time?”
“No...yes...no.”
He wouldn’t let go of her hand even though she tried to tug it back. The sad confusion on her face had him yank a little harder until she fell back into his arms. He poured all his own confusion and need into a single kiss, held her until her limbs sagged and her fingers dug into his hair. At this point, he’d use whatever tactics he could to vanquish that sadness and keep her here, just a little longer.
He broke the kiss slowly, memorizing the weight of her in his arms and her swollen lips beneath his.
As the minutes ticked by he brushed a hand over her arm. “Lizzie?”
Her shoulders lost some of their tension as she smiled softly. “I love when you call me that.”
The need to hold her was overpowering and Grey pulled her tighter into his arms. He held her against his chest and repeated her name lightly against her hair. Her jaw clenched against his chest and then a slow breath blew over his skin.
“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have left like I did.” Her fingers brushed absent circles over his chest. “That night, I wasn’t ready for...you. That wasn’t me...but it was, too. I mean...I just didn’t know what to do...about…us. I—”
He raised her chin and kissed the words from her lips. “It’s okay. I know.” And he did. He’d felt it, too, he just didn’t have the chance to decide what to do about it. When she’d left, she made the choice for him. Now...
Grey rested his chin on her hair. “Stay.”
Her chin rose and she stared up, brows dipped in uncertainty. “I want to.” She reached up and kissed his lips. “Let me make a phone call.”
Reluctantly, he let her go.
Grey quite enjoyed the view as Lizzie bent and searched through her clothing. The sheet caught around her legs as she stood and she quickly bunched the extra material beneath her arm. He grinned at the bare calf and thigh peeking from the crumpled sheet as she skittered to the far end of the trailer.
Elizabeth crammed herself and the errant sheet into a bench seat at the table. With a frantic hand, she flicked open her cell phone and dialed Paige’s number.
Grey’s gaze dug into her back and she tossed him a nervous smile over her shoulder as the phone on the other end was picked up.
“You can start by thanking me and then give me all the details,” Paige answered enthusiastically without so much as a hello. “Was it as amazing as you remembered?”
“Yes,” was all she could get out around the smile splitting her lips.
At the exuberant screech, she snapped the phone away from her ear. A quick glance over her shoulder showed Grey getting out of bed, brash and unashamed of his nakedness.
He put his hands against the bedroom doorframe and leaned a little forward, a questioning expression tilting his head. “Everything okay?”
Elizabeth nodded, let her eyes linger a few extra seconds over the delicious solid male form, then turned away again, the phone back at her ear.
“Oh, my God! You’re still there.” A satisfied breath blew into the phone. “You have no idea how proud I am of you right now. Wait...what the hell are you doing on the phone to me? Get back to that bronc rider.”
“Enough already. How’s Gretal?” she asked quietly, guilt taking hold for abandoning her precious daughter to engage in some clandestine meeting.
“She’s great. We’re just deciding on breakfast. I’m thinking bagel and cream cheese, but she’s almost got me convinced on Cheerios and mushed bananas. Kid, you need more teeth.”
Elizabeth grinned when she heard her daughter giggle at Paige’s little aside. Her heart filled with the need to be there. “Okay, I shouldn’t be much longer and then I’ll—”
“You will not,” her friend ordered. “Gretal is fine and we’ve got lots to keep us busy.”
“But you’ve done too much already, Paige. I can’t let you—”
“Yes, you can.” Her voice softened. “Don’t worry about us. For once in your life, do something for you.”
Elizabeth clenched her teeth on a wealth of mixed emotions. Thankfulness for such a wonderful friend, the need to be with her daughter, guilt for wanting to stay here and even more for the secret she held—and lust, heavy on the lust for the man who currently rummaged through the cupboards in nothing but an undone pair of jeans.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I’ve never once seen you go on vacation in all the years that I’ve known you. The campgrounds may not be a tropical paradise, but I’m sure you two can heat it up anyway.” A throaty giggle came through the line. “Enjoy yourself. The crowds don’t get busy until around three at the Ride ’n’ Bowl. That’s hours from now. Use them and abuse them—hell, abuse him and stay in bed all day—that’s what I’d do if I was lucky enough to have a sexy cowboy lusting after me.”
Paige’s laughter through the line made her cheeks burn.
“Hang up right now, Elizabeth, and go have fun. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“All right...and Paige?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks...for everything.”
“Anytime.”
Elizabeth flicked closed her phone and turned to where Grey poured scrambled eggs int
o a fry pan over the miniature stovetop.
“Everything okay?”
“Yep, taken care of,” she said as she stood. “I’m all yours.”
“All mine, huh?”
The look he gave her was so heated, he could have cooked the eggs with it. All her nerve endings landed in one place and she slowly walked up to him, rose on tiptoes, and kissed him.
Stay with me today. Today. That was all he’d said, no promises beyond.
Was she foolish for wishing the look in his eyes meant everything her heart hoped it did...or was this just a weekend fling like her head kept trying to convince her?
Chapter Eight
Elizabeth tucked her shirt into her pants. Two buttons were who knows where, so she searched for her jacket to cover the excessive display of cleavage. After breakfast, they’d had a very interesting and adventurous shower in the trailer’s compact facility and were now getting ready to head to Grey’s qualifying trials.
Pulling her jacket from where it hung askew off a small, built-in bookshelf, she paused at the photos pinned to a shelf. “I don’t remember seeing this picture last time.” In the small beige trailer, he’d barely had room to move, let alone for mementos.
Grey stepped up behind her and chuckled. “That’s my dad.” His hand reached over her shoulder and pointed to what looked like horns coming out of the rider’s cowboy hat. “Even though he’s second-generation-born-Texan, he took pride in our Viking ancestry.”
At first, she’d thought the cowboy atop the arched bronco was Grey. Elizabeth leaned in for a closer look. Yep, those were definitely little horns attached to the Stetson.
“At nineteen, he flew over for a visit to the homeland, as he liked to tell,” Grey continued. “Met the girl of his dreams before he even left the airport on the day he landed.”
The weight of his hands on her shoulders as he said this gave Elizabeth a breathless sensation both alive and fulfilled...and scary as hell.
She picked another picture, holding it tight to hide the slight tremble in her hand. This family photo had been the only decoration in his old trailer. “Gretal,” she said absently, noting her daughter’s brow line and eyes in her grandmother’s face.
