She held the crystal ball out in front of her and mimicked his voice again, “Unicorns? I eat them for breakfast—along with anyone who crosses me.”
He laughed.
She did as well.
He stepped closer and ran a hand through her hair. “I love that you’re not afraid of me.”
She went onto her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “I love that you are.” Before things got too heated, she retreated and sent her ball down the crystal alley toward the frosted pins with black trim. Her ball veered right and rolled most of the way in the gutter.
He handed her the ball he was holding then positioned himself right behind her. In a fuck-me now voice he said, “I’m no expert, but the problem was in your arm.” Then he ran a hand down her arm, sending all kinds of heat rushing through her. “Try to keep it straight when you toss the ball.”
She closed her eyes briefly, loving the feel of him all around her. It made her wish they’d chosen to leave while also feeling grateful they’d stayed. Sex with him probably would be good either way, but she was easily imagining the two of them naked and tangled on her bed—or her floor—or his bed—or his floor.
“And focus,” he growled.
“You’re making it a little hard.”
“So are you.” His chuckle was so sexy she nearly turned and launched herself at him. She didn’t though, because the anticipation was excruciatingly wonderful.
She shifted her body so her ass brushed against his thighs and his bulging cock. “I had no idea bowling was such an exciting sport.”
“Throw the damn ball. The sooner we get through these games—”
She took slow aim and brought her arm back. He stayed right behind her, his breath a warm tickle on her neck. When she released the ball, he kissed his way up her neck to the tip of her ear. “Better.”
He was, but her throw? She had no idea nor did she care. Her body was humming for him in a way that made everything beyond him fade away.
The sound of the ball cracking into pins barely caught her attention. She turned and searched Bradford’s face. “It’s not usually like this for me.”
His hands found her hips. “Bowling?”
She ran a hand over his cheek then tapped his chin with a finger. “You know what I’m talking about.”
He visibly took a breath. “I do.”
“And?”
She could almost see him withdraw mentally. “What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing you don’t mean.”
“A moment ago, you told me neither of us should worry about where this is going.”
She had. And she’d meant it. “I’m not talking about tomorrow; I’m talking about right here and now. I’ve never felt this way with someone before. I’m looking for some hint that this isn’t normal for you.”
With his gaze still shuttered, he said, “I can honestly say nothing about this is normal.”
She shook her head and looked away. She’d been hoping for more, but she didn’t want to push him. He’d been honest about his history and his issues. Just how magical did she think the tent was? Hello, reality. My name is Joanna. Sometimes I lose sight of you.
He pulled her closer. The look on his face was harsh, but his tone wasn’t. “I’m not good with words, but I’d take a bullet for you.”
She placed a hand flat on his chest. “I’m reasonably certain you’d take a bullet for almost anyone you saw in danger.”
“True.”
He needed smaller steps, less pressure. “But would you muck a stall for anyone?”
“Excuse me?”
“I have a farm to get back to and those stalls don’t clean themselves. I’ll be up early tomorrow morning cleaning my barn—would you like to help me?” When he didn’t immediately answer, she added, “I did win the ball toss which allows me to choose our next date.”
His head tipped back as he considered her offer. “And that’s what you want?”
She shrugged. “I’m not fancy, and I’d love to show you my little farm.”
“Okay.” The kiss that followed was all honey and promise. When he raised his head, he said, “But then I choose our next date.”
Next date.
For someone who doesn’t do the see-you-tomorrow thing, he said that pretty easily.
“You’re on.”
Something behind her caught his attention and he said, “The alley light just went out but the pinball machine lit up. Looks like we’re moving on.”
It sure does.
“I should warn you,” she said as she took him by the hand and began to lead him toward the pinball machine, “we had a pinball machine in our garage. I don’t want to brag, but this is my game.”
He leaned down so his lips caressed her ear as he murmured, “Then this time you take the lead.”
She met his gaze and was reminded of something her father often said: “A strong man is gentle because he doesn’t need to prove his strength and a weak man is cruel because he does.” Bradford had definitely learned to protect himself and he’d lost faith that he deserved happiness, but she was looking forward to seeing him with her mini-horses. If he was half the man her gut told her he was, they would adore him.
His expression closed again. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m someone I’m not.”
The sadness was back in his eyes and her heart ached for him. Her hands went to his face. She ran her fingertips lightly over his scar. “I do what I want.”
He caught her hand and kissed it before lowering it. “What am I going to do with you?”
She grinned up at him. “Now or when we get back to my place?”
He sucked in a breath. “You’re dangerous.”
She smiled at him and stepped back. “Don’t you forget it. Now get your ass over to that pinball machine and show me what you’ve got.”
Chapter Eight
By the time the final game light went off and the doors swung open, Bradford wasn’t sure he wanted to step back into reality. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let go and had fun, but that’s what the past couple of hours had been. He retrieved Joanna’s purse for her, and with a hand on her lower back, guided her out of the tent. On the way out, they passed a chiming clock that announced twelve noon as if it were midnight.
Oh, Clay.
The sun was still high in the sky. The sounds of a family walking by on the path broke the silence. Everything felt a bit surreal.
He was tempted to suggest they go directly to her place, but if he intended to stay and help her clean in the morning, a change of clothing might be nice. He didn’t want to separate from her, but he also refused to be someone who couldn’t. “If you want company tonight I should collect a few things from my place.”
She blushed but held his gaze. “I would love company. I’m also a really good cook. What’s your favorite food?”
“I don’t know that I have one.” Food had been scarce early in his life and he’d learned to eat to survive rather than care what it tasted like.
“No meat. Is that okay?”
“As long as you don’t try to make a soybean look like a steak, I’m fine with whatever.”
She smiled and almost took his hand then hesitated and didn’t. He understood. Outside of the tent they were back in reality and although it didn’t change how much he wanted her, it did apply the brakes a bit on what had been a runaway train. As they made their way down the path she said, “Do you need my address?”
He answered with just a look.
She continued, “Right, you know everything about me already.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes. He struggled to maintain his usual cool. He’d never been the type to hold a woman’s hand in public, but the absence of her touch was like a dull ache. She wasn’t bouncing with joy. Her cheeks were no longer flushed with passion. I’m doing this. I’m killing the vibe.
He had no idea what men said to keep a romantic mood
going since that had never been his goal. He’d always kept things straightforward so there were no hurt feelings when he didn’t call the next day.
This was different.
He opened his mouth to say something, decided against it, and almost said something else before deciding against that as well. The sound of frustration he emitted brought a side glance from Joanna, but she didn’t address it.
I’m just going to say it. “I want to do this better than I am.”
She stopped. “What?”
He swallowed hard. “Us.”
Her eyes shone with emotion, and she gave him a full-body hug. Against his chest, she murmured, “You’re doing fine.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I’ve always been a lot better at leaving than I’ve been at staying.”
“So have I.” She tipped her head back and looked up at him. “I don’t want to break your heart.”
“I don’t want to get you killed.”
She tensed against him. “I don’t want you to get me killed either. Is that an imminent possibility?”
He sighed. “No one does what I’ve done without making enemies.”
“I could say the same.”
“The children’s book industry is cutthroat?” He hadn’t meant to sound as sarcastic as he had, but she wasn’t taking his concern seriously.
She stepped out of his embrace. “I was referring to some of the people I’ve had run-ins with via horse kill lots. For everyone who thinks what I do is wonderful there is someone with an opposing view. I received death threats last year after I brought attention to a seller who was forging paperwork for horses. It got ugly for a little while.”
“Why did no one I spoke to mention that?”
“Because I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want them to worry.”
“Did you go to the police?”
“No. I ignored the messages until they stopped. I don’t engage with crazy.”
When, not if, he found out who had been threatening her, they would think twice before hassling any woman. “You live alone. And I know you don’t own a gun.”
“There’s usually someone around. I have volunteers and trainers who work with the horses. I refuse to live my life in fear.”
“So you ignored the threats?”
“Yes.”
Oh, my God. “If anyone ever threatens you again, tell me.”
“And you’ll handle it?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m not sure I’d want you to. Nothing happened. The guy was just talking shit.”
His stomach was churning and his hands clenched at his sides. “You were lucky.”
She gave him a look. “Nothing happened, Bradford. Seriously, and it’s been over a year.”
Neither said anything for several long minutes. Finally, she said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t say that to upset you. I just wanted to show you that a person doesn’t have to be an international spy or whatever you are to have enemies.”
“It’s fine. And how you handled that situation is actually none of my business.” He still felt a little sick from imagining anyone hurting her. Being with her was bringing to the surface emotions he usually kept in check. They’d just started spending time together and he was already a wreck on the inside. It was too late though to simply walk away. The damage was already done. She’d given him an Achilles’ heel.
They didn’t speak again until they were at her car. He felt like a complete ass for ruining what had been an amazing day. He stood over her beside her car and looked down into her eyes while trying to figure out what the fuck to say.
She laid a hand on his chest and he wondered if she could feel the heavy thud of his heart. “Bradford?”
“Yes?”
“We had a good day.” She smiled. “A really good day. You don’t have to come over tonight if you’re not ready to.”
“If I’m not ready?” He closed his eyes briefly. What the fuck is she talking about? His mood took more of a dive as a possible translation came to him. His tone turned defensive. “Tell me if you’ve changed your mind.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Is that what you want?”
He frowned. “Don’t dance around the truth. You either have or you haven’t.”
“Breathe.” She stepped closer, placing her other hand on his chest as well.
He almost told her he didn’t require coaching on how to hold his shit together, but she was giving that sweet look again—the one he found impossible to resist. He took one deep breath then another. His stomach calmed and the adrenaline that had begun to pump through him subsided.
“Better?” she asked.
The answer to that question completely depends on if she’s referring to the acid in my stomach or the clarity of my thought process. I’m no longer in need of an antacid, but I also have no fucking idea what I should do next.
Stay and protect her, even if being with me might put her in danger?
Buy fucking flowers and show up at her door tonight like some domesticated clown?
Have sex with her because it’s what we both want?
Wait because she deserves better than I’ve given women in the past?
His stomach started to churn again.
She slid her hands up his chest and around his neck, urging his head to lower. When his face was just above hers she gave him a tender kiss unlike any he’d experienced before. It shook him to the core. He pulled her closer.
Passion flared between them, but it didn’t muddle the message she was sending. Everything he needed from her was in that kiss—confidence, desire, patience. He had no idea if she could read him as easily, but he was coming to a decision. He wanted this in his life—her in his life.
He set her back from him. “How does six sound? I need time to—” He lied on a regular basis; it was how he gained access or covered his tracks. He couldn’t lie to her, though. Not when she was looking up at him with more trust than he’d earned.
Her smile was easy and open. “Perfect. That will give me plenty of time to get a few things, spend some time at the barn, and fit in a shower if I’m lucky.”
He groaned. Now all he could think about was her in the shower. He needed to put some distance between the two of them so he could unscramble his thoughts. “Do you want me to bring anything?”
She opened her car door. “I have a pool. Bring swim trunks.” She winked. “Or not. I’m open to swimming either way.” With that she closed the door of her car, started her engine, and pulled out.
He thought she’d drive away, but she waited. She was sticking around to make sure his car started before pulling away. He’d done that countless times for others, but no one had ever done it for him. He climbed into his own car and revved its engine. She waved at him. He waved back. She was smiling. He looked at himself in his rearview mirror. Damned if he wasn’t grinning from ear to ear.
On his drive back to his place, his phone rang. He was more of a texter than a talker, but it was Sophie Barrington so he answered. He’d made the mistake of giving her his phone number when she’d asked for it in Oklahoma. He thought she’d use it for emergencies, but instead she’d started calling him once a week to “check in.” No one he knew did that.
Worse, if he didn’t answer, she not only called back, but so did Ian—telling him to stop worrying his mother and answer his damn phone. As far as he could tell there was no delicate way to extricate himself from the situation, so for the present he was dealing with it.
“Hi, Sophie.”
“Bradford, I hope this isn’t a bad time.”
Was there a good time for the awkward conversations they engaged in? “Good as any.”
“I was sorry to see you leave early last night. I spoke to Clay about his behavior. He said he’d give you some space.”
“Did he?” He fought to keep sarcasm out of his voice. “I appreciate your concern, Sophie, but he wasn’t why I left. I had somewhere I needed to be.”
“Of course. Dale told me I was likely worried
about nothing, but that’s who I am. I can’t turn it off. So, you and Joanna seemed to be getting along.”
He didn’t respond to that, but if Sophie were anyone else he would have told her to mind her own business.
She continued, “Connor told me a group of them are heading over to Iceland soon to watch Dylan film. He said you were invited but declined.”
“My schedule doesn’t allow for it.”
“I realize I might be overstepping, but I care about you. You should go, Bradford. Those boys love you. Not only would it mean a lot to them to have you there, but it would be good for you.”
“Sophie—”
“I hear Joanna is going. What a great way for you to get to know her better. See if anything develops.”
“Sophie—”
“She’s such a good soul. Her mini-rescue—so inspirational. And her family? Pure gold. Nicest people. She’s also smart as a whip. Not a pushover at all. You’d do well with someone like that.”
“I—”
“Women like that don’t stay single long. Initially she seemed interested in Dylan, but I’m glad that foolishness is over. I couldn’t picture the two of them together. But you? I hope you reconsider the Iceland trip. It might surprise you how much the two of you have in common.”
“Sophie—”
“Just promise to consider it.”
He sighed. “I will.”
“Dale and I are in the New York area for a few more days. We’re having a nice quiet dinner tonight. We’d love company.”
If there was one thing the matriarch of the Barrington family never was, it was alone. He wasn’t falling for it. “Regretfully, I already have plans.”
“Oh, anything special?”
“Nothing I’m comfortable discussing yet.” He should have said a simple no, but seeing Joanna again felt too important to dismiss even if doing so would have made his life easier.
Sophie called out to her husband. “Dale, I think Bradford met someone. He said he has plans he’s not comfortable discussing yet.”
Dale came onto the call via another line. “Bradford.”
Reluctantly Rescued (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 9) Page 11
