He used Jessica’s weight, the truck, and his own strength to heave himself up, which pulled her against him. He regained his balance with enviable ease, but once more, Jess smashed into him, and once more, it was a joy.
She shivered as his arms came around her, then again when he let her go almost immediately. He was only keeping himself upright, not hugging her. Still, it was hard not to like his strong embrace, his hands on her back, the warmth and scent of male and the night.
Tyler stepped away without apologizing, and rested his hand on the truck. “If you would help my clumsy ass up those stairs, I’d be forever grateful. I already gave you tickets to the show, but I’ll give you more if you want. Plus lunch for you and your son. On me.”
“You don’t have to bribe me to help you.” Jess kept her voice light. Her heart turned inside out with his offer for lunch, though she knew damn well he wasn’t asking her on a date. He meant he’d give her money or coupons that would let her take Dominic out for fast food or whatever.
“Well, that’s good.” His eyes crinkled with mirth. “Makes a change. It’s this way. Not far.”
Tyler draped his arm across Jess’s shoulders without embarrassment, leaning on her a little as he hobbled forward. Jess got her weight under her, her legs shaking as panic welled inside her. What if she stumbled? They’d both go down in a tangle in the parking lot, Tyler’s warm weight on top of her.
And this would be a bad thing … why?
After a few steps, Jess realized that supporting Tyler wasn’t as difficult as she’d feared. He had an easy balance that kept him light on his feet, even as hurt as he must be. His body against her was solid but supple. What he called clumsy, Jess called a good day on her feet.
“Do you usually have to bribe people to help you?” Jessica asked as they half staggered across the parking lot.
“Yep. People fall all over themselves to do shit for my older brothers, but I’m too far down the food chain. I’m just Tyler, the reckless one.”
“Are you reckless?” That sounded nice. Jess hadn’t been reckless since she’d been much younger, and she’d paid for it. Now she was responsible, dependable, working in a tough bar to make ends meet because no one respectable wanted to hire a young woman with her issues. Recklessness was a long time ago and far away.
“I’m the wild one,” Tyler said with an ironic note in his voice. “Couldn’t you tell?”
Jess shrugged, liking how the movement brushed her shoulder against his chest. “Because you took on a bar full of bikers? Yeah, that could be considered reckless. Or do you commit crimes too?”
That would be her luck. She was tired of guys always on the lookout for the cops. Not what she wanted around Dominic.
Tyler’s laughter vibrated down to her toes. “Not lately. Ross would crush me. I mean I stay out too late and party too much. I don’t pay attention to business. That’s what Carter says, anyway. He’s all business—well, he pretends to be. But he had a messed-up youth, so he’s obsessed with keeping the rest of us on the straight and narrow.”
This Carter sounded like a hard-ass, but Jess knew guys who’d been in jail in their younger days and worked their fingers off to never go back there again. She didn’t blame them, but it made them intense.
“If he had a messed-up youth, didn’t you too?” They’d reached the stairs. Tyler grabbed the handrail and hoisted himself up, his arm still around Jess. She clutched the rail on the other side, the two of them hauling themselves up each step.
“Naw, I had it great,” Tyler said without rancor. “Except for losing my dad when I was little. That was tough. But I had Adam and my mom, the rest of my brothers, my friends. Carter’s adopted. Mom saved him from a life on the streets. She’s like that.”
It sounded too good to be true, like a TV show based around a huge loving family. Sure, they fought, but their problems could be solved with a brief talk and a lot of hugging by the end of the hour.
“Carter’s lucky,” Jessica said. They reached the landing, and Jess supported Tyler while he grabbed for the next railing.
“Hey, that’s what I always say. When we were younger, I’d say that to his face. He’d say yeah, he knew it, then we’d start hitting each other. Don’t ask me why. We still beat up on each other; we just do it in front of people and charge admission.”
Their show. The tickets burned in Jessica’s back pocket. She would go to the rodeo arena and see it, she decided. Didn’t matter about work—tomorrow was Sunday, her day off. She longed to see Tyler riding or whatever he did, watch his body in action.
That is, if he could stand up by tomorrow. This man was in no condition to ride a horse or even walk very far.
Tyler almost fell on the top step. He caught both of them with his hand on the balcony rail, Jess stumbling into his side.
“Whoops,” Tyler said as though he thought it all very funny. “Let me dig out my key before we slide back down the stairs.”
His body was strength itself in spite of the way he teetered. He held up Jess and himself both while he slid his hand into his back pocket and pulled out a card.
“If I can remember my room number, we’ll be good.”
He started down the balcony lined with doors and windows, arm firmly around Jess.
No man had walked with his arm around her in a long time. Guys, including her husband, had wanted to go to bed with Jess, but they didn’t want to be with her. No hand holding, or buying her stupid gifts for no reason, calling in the night just to hear her voice. None of that romantic shit for Jessica. It was a booty call or nothing. She was a body for them to enjoy, not a person to fall in love with. In the last few years, they hadn’t even wanted her for the body in their bed.
Jess could pretend for the next few steps that Tyler had his arm around her for more reason than helping him stand. She let herself imagine that they’d been out on a date, and now they were back at his hotel room, both excited about where this might lead.
Tyler stopped in front of a door, key hovering. “Think this is right. Yes.” The card made the electronic light glow green, the door clicking open when he turned the handle.
Tyler didn’t release Jess even then. They scooted through the doorway at the same time, sticking in the doorframe, then stumbling in, Tyler laughing softly.
The room smelled like all hotel rooms, of disinfectant and air freshener, overlaid with the dust and leather scents of Tyler.
He hadn’t left any lights on, and the room was dark as soon as the door closed. Jess glimpsed, before darkness was complete, one bed between nightstands and a dresser with a TV on it, typical hotel room furniture, the bathroom vanity on the other side of the room, clothes strewn about, a big duffel bag open on a stand.
Tyler grunted when he connected with a piece of furniture. Jessica lost hold of him, her hands burning as he fell away from her. She heard him hit the floor.
Jess fumbled for a wall switch, finally finding one on the other side of the room, and the bathroom flooded with glaring light, a square spilling to the bedroom floor.
In this light she saw Tyler flat on his face in the small space beside the bed, his head turned to the side. His eyes were closed, his body unmoving.
Chapter Three
Tyler groaned when someone shook him. “Five minutes,” he mumbled. “I swear.”
“Tyler?”
He blinked, the smooth, soothing voice cutting through his haze of pain. It wasn’t his lug of a brother Grant shaking his shoulder and trying to get him up. It was a beautiful woman with dusky eyes and curls of ink across her skin, her hair falling forward to brush him.
“You okay?” she asked anxiously.
I am now.
Tyler tried to roll over, to move, and he let out a sound of pain, remembering how he’d got here in this sorry state. His own stupid fault. He really didn’t want to go to an emergency room—they’d patch him up and give him a ton of meds that would keep him passed out for a day. All he needed was some sleep, and he’d be fine.
>
“Come on.” The beautiful woman—Jess—had her hands under his shoulders. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Tyler hauled himself up without leaning too hard on her, his legs strong enough to carry his messed-up body. He found his arm around her again, her soft curves against his side, her fragrant hair near his nose.
They staggered into the lit bathroom, past the vanity to the room with the tub and toilet. Jess ducked out from under Tyler, sitting him down on the closed toilet lid. She grabbed a washcloth and quickly ran it under hot water, then rummaged for the cotton swabs and cotton balls in the makeup remover kit that came with every room.
“I have first-aid stuff,” Tyler said. “In the closet.”
He started to stand, but Jess pushed him back down with an admonishing hand. “Sit there,” she growled. “I’m not picking you up off the floor again.”
Tyler’s amusement bubbled high, along with a vigor he’d not felt in a long time. “Sure thing, sweetheart.”
“And stop calling me sweetheart.”
Jess threw the words at him as she turned away and rummaged in the closet on the other side of the vanity. Tyler watched her through the open door, admiring the way her shorts bared everything from thigh to ankle.
Did she have sexy legs or what? Firm from her job on her feet but with nice curves, the way legs were meant to be. He noticed she favored her left one a little, and he hoped this ex of hers hadn’t hurt her. Or Elijah. Tyler might have to gather his brothers, return to the bar, and have a little talk with Elijah and friends.
Jessica returned with a large case marked with a red cross. “This isn’t a first-aid kit,” she said in amazement. “It’s a suitcase.”
Tyler shrugged, which hurt. “We’re stunt riders. We fall down.”
Jess set the kit on the vanity counter and opened it. Her eyes widened at the rows of bandages, bottles of disinfectant and alcohol, gauze, scissors, medical tape, a splint, slings, syringes, a scalpel.
“Holy shit,” she said in shock.
“We haven’t ever used all that stuff.” Tyler felt the need to point this out. “We’re careful and we train. But you never know.”
“I need one of these things for my kid,” Jess said. “He wants to be a biker when he grows up. Right now he’s into BMX trying to do stunts—even though he knows he’s not supposed to.”
Tyler heard the exasperation, pride, and worry all mixed up. Jess’s face softened in a big way as she talked about her son. The wariness fled, and love shone in her eyes. It made her stunning.
“You said Dominic was nine,” Tyler said. “When I was nine, I was making my mother crazy too. Except with horses instead of bikes. I can’t believe she’s survived this long without having heart failure.”
“Oh, thanks.” Jessica started wiping the dirt, blood, and pieces of parking lot out of his face with the damp cloth. “Are you trying to make me feel better? I have to worry about him all my life, you’re saying?”
“You’re a mom. Moms worry,” Tyler said while she added some disinfectant from the first-aid kit and touched the washcloth to his cheek. It stung but her touch felt good.
“They sure do,” she said. “So you have four brothers?”
“Yep. No sisters.”
“Five sons?” Jess shook her head. “The poor woman.”
“Yeah, she drew the short straw. Five shitheads who can’t keep out of trouble. Bet your kid’s an angel compared to us.”
“I’m starting to think so.”
Jess wouldn’t meet his gaze as she bent close to him, but the heat of the cloth put a flush on her face.
This woman was gorgeous. So why was Tyler going on about his family? When he swept women off their feet and into his bed, he used a whole host of sweet talking and compliments, going beyond stupid pickup lines to charm and flattery. He’d learned most of his skills from Grant, who’d been a master.
There he went again, bringing his asshole brothers into his thoughts. They were off talking business and calling their wives, saying gooey sweet nothings over the phone. Tyler had decided to ditch them tonight, hang out in a Dallas bar and see what was going on in the big city. He’d chosen one away from the rodeo area, tired of cowboys, seeing a claim on the online map that Brent’s Bar had great beer. The beer had been only okay, and nothing in its ad had mentioned Elijah.
Or, maybe his map app hadn’t steered him wrong. Jess, the most alluring woman he’d seen in a long time, was here in his hotel room, and he hadn’t had to do any sweet talking at all. No, he just had to have ten guys throw him around, and wham—beautiful woman in his bathroom, leaning over him while she gently touched his face.
Her position put the lines of her tatts at his eye level. Tyler tried not to follow them into the gap her shirt made as Jess bent to him, but it was impossible to look away. He could shut his eyes, not take advantage of the situation, but—who the hell was he kidding?
Tyler looked. The tatts on her left shoulder snaked down inside the shirt, all the way to the soft curve of her breast.
The washcloth froze. Jess’s hand had gone rigid, and reluctantly, Tyler dragged his eyes from her chest to her face.
Jess was staring at him, her lips parted, her breath quickening. Her flushed cheeks burned redder as he met her gaze.
“I can’t help it.” Tyler shrugged. “I’m a red-blooded male, and you have great ink. Are you an artist?”
“No. Wanted to be.” The sadness in her voice caught at him.
“Why didn’t you, then?” he asked.
She straightened up, as though more upset by the question than his checking out her breasts. “I didn’t think I’d make enough to support Dominic. Besides …” Jess trailed off and shook her head as though stopping herself from saying more. “I don’t have any real talent for it. I make enough tending bar, plus like I said, they have health insurance.”
“Sorry. None of my business.”
Listen to him, apologizing. Tyler never apologized to women. He took them out, showered them with attention, had brief but intense affairs with them, and then sent them on their way. None of it got too personal. Sexy—hell, yes—but not personal. There was a difference.
Jess went back to cleaning his wounds. “It’s all right. Why are you a stunt rider?”
“I got dragged into it by my brothers,” Tyler answered readily. “Story of my life. Well, okay, maybe not dragged exactly. When I was younger, I copied them because I thought they were cool. Now I do it because I love horses and will do anything to keep from sitting in a cubicle in a cold office building. I like being outside. You know, living.”
And what the hell was he going on about that for? Here he was, a banged-up mess, bleating about what he loved. This was one hell of a first date.
But maybe he was talking like an idiot because it wasn’t a date. Tyler wasn’t winking at a cute girl in a bar, buying her a drink to convince her to go out with him. No impressing her by taking her to a fancy restaurant then back to an upscale hotel in Austin or a cozy B&B for the weekend. Just an anonymous hotel in Dallas, a white bathroom, and cuts and bruises all over his body.
“I get that,” Jess said, longing in her voice. “About being outside. I love watching Dominic at his BMX meets. Worry like hell the whole time, but it’s great being there with him outdoors. I couldn’t make it working in a windowless cubicle either. Not that a bar …” She shut her mouth quickly again—she didn’t like talking about herself, Tyler noted. “Take off your shirt.”
Tyler’s fingers went immediately to his buttons. “Yes, ma’am,” he said with enthusiasm. “Ow.” His shoulder wrenched and he had to slow down. “Shit, this is embarrassing.”
Jess looked like she wanted to laugh. She reached for the buttons, undoing the top one gently but competently.
Tyler relaxed, letting her fingers move to the next one. “So much better,” he murmured.
Jess glanced at him, her eyes close to his. Her cheeks went crimson, the flush moving all the way down her neck to embrace
the tatts at her collar. She pulled away, starting to rise, but Tyler caught her hand.
No. Stay.
He couldn’t say the words out loud. She might refuse, go, and for some reason Tyler didn’t want her gone. He wanted her here with an intensity he hadn’t felt in a long time. The crappy hotel room transformed into splendor with her in it, a different place tonight.
Jess’s dark eyes moved to him, something in them he couldn’t decipher, but she stayed put. She didn’t reach to help him unbutton his shirt though.
Jess held the dripping cloth aside while Tyler tore at the buttons and stripped off the shirt, then the T-shirt he wore beneath.
He looked down at himself. “Shit.”
His sides were turning purple where thick-soled motorcycle boots had connected with his flesh.
“That’s it.” Jessica folded her arms, splattering the floor with droplets of water. “Emergency room.”
“Hold on.” Tyler poked at the bruises, which were tender but not dangerously so. “Like I said, sweetie, I’ve been hurt worse than this. Someday I’ll tell you about the time my horse Buster kicked the shit out of me. And then laughed.”
Jess’s eyes narrowed. “Horses don’t laugh.”
“Beg to differ. He was snorting and laughing and looking smug. If I ever introduce you, you’ll understand.”
“You still have him?”
She sounded surprised. And interested. Good. Not I’m out of here, you crazy asshole.
“’Course we still have him. He’s our best showman. He knows it, the shit. He’s amazing in the ring. You’ll see him tomorrow.”
“I don’t know if I can like him knowing he did that to you.”
“Aw, I’m touched.” Tyler was astonished, actually. Most women rolled their eyes with boredom when he went on about horses. Even women who followed the rodeo, the buckle bunnies, only wanted him for his body. After a certain point, they didn’t want Tyler to talk.
Tyler (Riding Hard Book 4) Page 3
