He thought back to the lecture she’d given Nigel about dealing with women, but he didn’t think it applied in this instance—especially since he really could fix the problem. “It wouldn’t cost that much—just enough to pay for the fuel. I wouldn’t charge you for labor.”
“You won’t get rich doing business like that.”
“I’m not trying to get rich. I’m trying to do a friend a favor.”
Her eyes narrowed, and Travis had the strangest feeling she could see right through him. “It’s kind of you to offer, but I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than digging ditches—especially if you’re not getting paid.”
He shrugged. “Fix dinner for me sometime.”
“I could do that. I hate mud with a passion, and there’s so much of it, it’s driving me nuts.”
“I know what you mean.” He was about to add further encouragement when he remembered Miranda had a husband who might not approve of other men doing “favors” for his wife—or having dinner with her.
She gnawed at her lower lip as though weighing the pros and cons. “Okay. But it’s gonna be tough figuring out when to do it. You’ve got to have the time and the ground has to dry out a little. Otherwise, you’d be stuck there until spring.”
Travis couldn’t help smiling. Getting stuck at Miranda’s house until spring was akin to winning the lottery—as long as her husband was stuck somewhere else. “It’s not supposed to rain again until the weekend. I could come over on Friday afternoon.”
She nodded her agreement. “Okay, but I can’t help feeling I’m taking advantage of you.”
“Hey, you invited me to a party and introduced me to several new women. I’d say this makes us even.”
She shot him a skeptical look. “Maybe—but only if you’d hit it off with one of them.”
In Travis’s opinion, any excuse to spend a few extra moments in Miranda’s company was worth a few failed dates—plus the time required to dig a ditch. It might even be worth a confrontation with her husband. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll see you on Friday afternoon.”
Right after I call Alan.
* * * *
Stuart was okay with the loan of the backhoe, particularly since Travis hadn’t mentioned whose ditch he’d be digging. He helped Travis hitch the trailer to his truck, gave him a few pointers on ditch digging, and sent him on his way.
Travis stopped to refuel the truck and the backhoe, giving Alan a call while the tanks filled. Stuart might not have been the least bit suspicious, but Alan was worried.
“That is not the sort of thing you need to be doing,” he warned after Travis explained the situation. “Going to her party was bad enough. This is much worse.”
“True. I’ll be on a backhoe digging in the dirt instead of hanging out in her house with a bunch of her friends.”
“You know what I mean. She’ll feel like she owes you something. Do not accept any offers to repay you—especially not with sex.”
Travis was thankful he was on the phone with his cousin rather than talking with him in person. Otherwise, he’d have been sorely tempted to take a swing at him. “She’s not that kind of woman. If she was, I probably wouldn’t be so crazy about her. She’d never suggest anything like that.”
“Yeah, well, don’t you suggest it, either. I told you to steer clear of her completely, and what do you do? You offer to dig a ditch for her.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “Dammit, Travis, you’re starting to remind me of me.”
“If I was anything like you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I’d have done something stupid already, and I haven’t—yet. You’re right, though. I can’t leave her alone or stay away from her. I’m not that noble.” The pump shut off, and he switched it over to the tank on the backhoe.
“Shit, man. You’re worse off than I thought.”
“Yeah. I know that, too.” He tightened the gas cap on the truck. “Just wish I knew what she was thinking. Mind telling me how you knew those married women you had affairs with were willing?”
“The same way you know if a single woman wants you, dumb butt. They send out the usual signals—only they’re more blatant about it.”
Miranda had never given Travis the slightest hint that she was interested in him as anything other than a friend, and she certainly hadn’t seemed willing to cheat on Levi. Or maybe it was encouraging. If she didn’t want him, he could hang around and drool over her all he liked. Hell, he might even get blatant about it.
“Travis,” Alan prompted. “You’re too damned quiet. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“I dunno.” He chewed on a thumbnail. He’d been doing that so much lately it was a wonder he had any fingers left.
“Has she been sending out signals?”
Travis couldn’t think of a single, solitary one. “No.”
“Not in private or not in public?”
“I mean, not at all.” He paused, frowning. “What difference does it make where she does it?”
“Flirting in public means she likes you but isn’t willing to take the plunge. In private…well, you get the idea.”
“Yeah, I get it.” The only time he’d truly been alone with Miranda, she’d been irked because he’d figured out she was trying to fix him up with one of her friends—or her sister. He was grateful to have dodged that bullet. Tracy was a nice girl, and she was very pretty, but she wasn’t Miranda.
“Look, you’ve already promised to do this job for her, right?”
He hung up the pump and replaced the cap on the backhoe’s gas tank. “Had to talk her into it, but yeah, I told her I’d be there this afternoon.”
“Stay on the backhoe then. Do not go in the house. Do not accept anything from her.”
“Not even dinner, or a handshake, or a hug?”
“No—especially not the hug. A simple thank you is enough. You weren’t expecting anything more, were you?”
Travis winced. He hadn’t expected anything, but he’d certainly hoped for more than a handshake—and not just the dinner she’d offered him. “No. Not really. But what about dinner if her husband is there?” He tore off the receipt and climbed back into the truck.
Alan laughed until Travis wanted to strangle him. “Do you really want to sit across the table from the man who actually has the right to fuck the woman you’re nuts about? I may be a sex maniac, but even I have a hard time facing down a husband, particularly if he’s a nice guy. Might knock some sense into you, though.”
“I doubt if he’d do that.” Nothing he’d ever heard Miranda say about Levi led him to believe he’d be the violent, jealous type. Then again, she hadn’t really said very much about him at all.
“I don’t mean he’d actually slug you. It’s more of a reality check. When you see how happy she is with someone else, it…changes things. Trust me on that one.”
“Okay, point made. I promise I’ll be good. Talk to you later.” Travis switched off his phone and leaned back against the seat with a sigh.
The weather forecast had changed slightly. The rain would be coming in sooner than originally predicted, and he had four hours of daylight left. If he was going to do this for Miranda, he needed to get his ass in gear.
Whatever happened after that was up to her.
Chapter 9
When Travis came up the drive, Miranda wasn’t sure which looked better, him or the backhoe. “Damn that’s beautiful,” she said as he climbed out of the truck.
He chuckled. “You really did ask Santa for a backhoe.”
“You bet I did. When I think of the jobs I’ve tackled with nothing but a shovel and a rake…”
“This time you can sit back and relax and let the heavy equipment do the work.”
“Sounds fabulous.” While he unloaded the backhoe, she went up to man the gate. The horses were already tearing around the paddock as though Earth was being invaded by aliens, and she tried not to cringe as he drove across the soft turf of her backyard. Telling herself that getting rid of the mud in th
e barn was worth a few ruts, she opened the gate and waved him through.
Miranda watched as he dug out huge sections of the existing ditch in a matter of minutes, not even wanting to think about the blisters and aching back she would have gotten had she attempted it herself. That man deserves one helluva dinner.
She was on her way back to the house to start cooking when she remembered he hadn’t said what he wanted to eat or even when he wanted it. However, since Levi was coming home for the weekend, she decided to go ahead with her original plans. There would be plenty of food, and if Travis wanted to stay for dinner, he was more than welcome.
* * * *
The pie was almost done when the phone rang.
“Hi, Mom,” Levi said. “I have to work tomorrow, so I’m going to stay here tonight.”
Miranda took a moment to swallow her disappointment. “How come you’re working so many weekends now? You never did before.”
“Tabitha needs me to help her.”
“Tabitha needs you? Who’s Tabitha?”
“Oh, she’s a girl who works at the store with me.”
“I figured that,” Miranda said. “What I mean is, have I met her before?”
“I don’t think so. I like working with her. She’s really nice.”
Miranda knew this was probably the most information she was going to get from him for now. Too many questions tended to upset him. “I’ll have to come and meet her sometime.”
“Okay. Bye, Mom.” Since his farewells were usually abrupt, she tried not to read too much into it. However, if what she suspected was true, this wouldn’t be the first time he’d had a crush on a pretty girl. Hopefully, this Tabitha person was as nice as he’d said she was, otherwise he was in for a huge disappointment.
She hung up the phone, wondering whether to go ahead with the dinner plans or scrap them altogether. All she had to do was run up to the barn and check with Travis, but for some reason she was hesitant to do so. Inviting him to dinner seemed too…forward or something. Whatever the reason, her reticence kept her in the house, catching up on a few chores.
She didn’t realize how long she’d been stalling until she heard the backhoe coming across the yard. Putting on her coat and boots, she went out just as he drove the backhoe onto the trailer.
“That didn’t take long. Sorry I wasn’t there to get the gate for you.”
He climbed down from the trailer and raised the tailgate. “No problem. The horses wouldn’t come anywhere near this thing.” As usual, the man couldn’t say anything without smiling. Miranda wondered if she would ever stop getting those warm, tingly feelings whenever he smiled at her. Hugs were even better. Unfortunately, she hadn’t gotten one since the Christmas party.
“What do I owe you?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “Like I told you, make dinner for me sometime.”
“That’s not what we agreed on, and you know it. I was supposed to at least pay for the fuel.”
“Oh, yeah.” He said this as though he’d just remembered it. “I’ll let you know what it costs to fill the tank.”
If he was that forgetful, she doubted he would ever tell her—which meant she would have to make him a really good dinner. “Would you like to stay tonight? For dinner, I mean.” She wasn’t sure which sounded stranger, what she’d said initially, or the fact that she felt the need to clarify it.
Travis didn’t seem to notice. “Sounds good. I’m not exactly dressed for dinner, though—or what you’d call clean.”
Miranda couldn’t help laughing. Even splattered with mud, he was a dream come true. “If you smell too bad, I’ll just throw you in the shower and give you some of Levi’s clothes to wear.”
Whoa, that was a mistake.
The thought of Travis in the shower sent a jolt of desire zipping from her nipples to her core.
Thankfully, Travis seemed oblivious to her reaction. “I’m okay with that, as long as he doesn’t mind.”
“No, he won’t care. He called a while ago to say he wouldn’t be home tonight. I’ll go feed the horses real quick and then start on dinner. In the meantime, make yourself at home. There’s beer in the fridge.”
The horses were still agitated from their visit from the aliens, so Miranda waited at the gate until they settled down. After she fed them and cleaned the barn, she went out to inspect the ditch, which was now capable of handling a deluge of nearly biblical proportions. He’d even made a nice bank along the edge.
After doling out the hay, she gave Kira’s nose a rub. “No more mud in the barn. Isn’t that great? You probably don’t care, though, do you?” Kira munched her hay as though mud was the least of her worries. “What do you think I should do with Travis? Should I give him dinner and then demand a kiss for my trouble? Maybe I should tell him the pie is extra and if he wants any, he has to spend the night.”
Kira ignored her, but Kes shook her head.
“Oh, what would you know, Kester? Didn’t you like him?”
Kes replied with a snort and went back to eating her hay, as well.
“You guys are no help whatsoever.”
Upon her arrival at the house, Miranda’s worst fears were realized. Travis was in the shower and his clothes were draped over the chair by the front door. All of them.
He must’ve stripped at the door and then walked naked to the bathroom. The mental image alone nearly gave her heart failure.
Does he think I’m made of stone? Had he raided Levi’s closet for clothes or would he come strutting out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel?
Hurrying into Levi’s room, she yanked open the drawers and pulled out a T-shirt, underwear, socks, and a pair of sweat pants. She was in the process of laying all of it in the hall by the bathroom when Travis opened the door. His groin was right at eye level, making the bulge beneath his towel very hard to miss. Straightening quickly, she handed him the stack of clothing, fighting the urge to rip the towel off him while his hands were full.
He smiled as though he half expected her to do it. “Don’t look so surprised, Miranda. You told me to make myself at home.”
“Yes, I did.” She let out a nervous little laugh. “You’re good at following directions.”
And you look amazingly good in nothing but a towel. Then she made the mistake of taking that thought one step further, imagining him without the towel and almost choked. Her fingers itched to push that towel aside so she could see, kiss, taste, and caress every square inch of him.
“Miranda,” he said gently. “You’re staring…”
She took a deep breath. “Sorry. Can’t help it. I may be a worn-out old nurse, but I’m not dead yet.”
“Never thought you were.”
Miranda didn’t know what to make of that—or the accompanying twinkle in his eyes. “I–I’ll just go back to the kitchen. Put some clothes on if you don’t want me to stare.”
She was browning Italian sausages when he came up behind her a few minutes later, peering over her shoulder.
“What’s for dinner?” His breath on her neck raised goose bumps that went wild, chasing each other across her shoulders and up and down her spine.
“That depends on how hungry you are.” Her voice came out with a bit of a quaver, forcing her to clear her throat. “I’m fixing fettuccine Alfredo with Italian sausage and mushrooms. I can make a salad and garlic bread if you’re starving. Plus, there’s Dutch apple pie and ice cream for dessert.”
“Hmm… That all sounds good, and I’m pretty hungry.”
She tossed the mushrooms in with the sausage and put a lid on the skillet. “No problem. Have a seat. Want a beer?” She’d gone from quavering to speaking in short, abrupt sentences.
Calm down, Miranda.
“Sure.” He sat down at the table, looking much more relaxed than she felt.
Pulling two bottles of Sam Adams out of the fridge, she gave him one, figuring he’d get up and go find a television. Pleased to note that he didn’t, she went back to work. She paused after taking a
sip of her own beer, realizing her mistake in drinking anything stronger than tea. She hadn’t grabbed his towel earlier—which had required a significant amount of self-control—but with enough alcohol on board, anything could happen. She might even give him a hickey to match his birthmark.
Desperate for a neutral topic, she asked him about his brother. Inserting a question from time to time, she managed to keep the conversation going, but eventually the discussion turned to Travis and his efforts at finding someone to live with aside from Stuart. The beer must’ve loosened her tongue, otherwise she’d have never told him that the reason he was still living with his brother was that he was too damn picky for his own good.
“Picky?” His harsh, mirthless laugh took her by surprise. “Actually, I wasn’t picky enough. I married a girl right out of high school and wound up divorced in no time. Now all the good ones are taken.”
“No, they aren’t. What was wrong with Christina?”
“It’s pretty hard to get excited about a woman who only talks about her old boyfriend. I don’t think I could ever measure up to him. Besides, she’s too busy.”
“You’re right about the busy part, but I know Mark pretty well, and he’s not that special. She would’ve stopped talking about him eventually. Maybe you should ask her out again.”
Miranda knew why he wouldn’t but saw no reason to let him know she’d been discussing him with Christina. She would certainly never tell him her friend had referred to him as boring.
“No, I don’t believe I will. She’s smart and beautiful, and I like the idea of a woman having her own career. But she seems more interested in her work than any mere man. That was all she talked about—aside from Mark.” He frowned, taking another sip of his beer. “She couldn’t care less about horses. We had absolutely nothing in common.”
“Sort of like the obstetrician?”
He nodded. “Yeah—a lot like her.”
“You never said why Dana and Mary Beth didn’t interest you.”
“No chemistry,” he said with a shrug. “Very nice, intelligent, and attractive, but no spark.”
Unbridled (Unlikely Lovers) Page 7
