When his reflection remained silent, he left the bathroom. The phone rang and he snatched up the receiver.
"Hey, Josh. It's Bob," came his business manager's voice. "How's the vacation? You all rested up?"
"Vacation's going great," he said, not adding that sleep was playing a minimal role.
"And how about those sailing lessons?"
"Just fine."
"Glad to hear it. Listen, I'm calling 'cause I just got the heads up on something I think you'll find very interesting."
Josh tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling. He had a strong sense he knew what was coming next. And he didn't want to hear it. "Bob, I'm retired."
"I know it." A lengthy pause filled the air. "But Wes Handly isn't."
The mention of his rival's name piqued Josh's curiosity, as he knew Bob had hoped. "I'm listening."
"Handly's just signed on for an international charity event in Europe scheduled for next month. Right now he's the biggest name on marquee. But I know another name that could knock him off the top spot." Before Josh could reply, Bob rushed on, "The corporate sponsors are going nuts with this, Josh. They're promising the moon if you'll step out of retirement. Not only would it make you rich-"
"I'm already rich."
"You can never be too rich. Besides, this event will not only raise a load of money for charity, it would give you a chance to compete against Handly again. To hand him the loss he should have had last time. To let you go out on top, where you belong."
Damn, as much as he hated to admit it, Josh couldn't deny that the thought of going head-to-head against Handly one more time, to have another chance to beat him, made his blood hum with anticipation. He should have won that last competition. Coming in second still rankled.
"When do you need to know?"
"Sponsors want to set up a meeting as soon as possible, in Miami. Josh, listen, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Don't pass it up. Handly's talking about retiring himself next year, so this would be your only chance. Grab it with both hands. And, just as a bit of added incentive, I thought I'd point out something you may not have considered-this event takes place in Monaco."
"So?"
" Monaco is on the Mediterranean."
Josh mulled that over for about ten seconds, then mused out loud, "So I could tie up two bulls with one rope."
"Practically with one hand tied behind your back," Bob agreed. "And collect a big fat paycheck to do it."
And then he'd be free, his quest over. Free to concentrate his time and energy on his future. And Lexie.
"Bob?"
"Yes, Josh?"
"Sign me up."
There was no missing Bob's sigh of relief. "Atta, boy. I'll tell the sponsors right away, and call you back with the details. This is going to be great, Josh. You made the right decision."
Josh ended the call several minutes later then stared at the phone. He didn't doubt he'd made the right decision-he'd wanted another crack at Handly since the day he'd hung up his spurs. And with this event taking place in Monaco, with the Mediterranean spread at his feet, well, surely that was some sort of sign.
Yet he couldn't banish the niggling doubt at the back of his mind. In spite of knowing he'd done the right thing for himself, he strongly suspected that Lexie would take a dim view of him coming out of retirement. Her opinion of daredevils was crystal-clear: she wanted no part of another one. She already thought his sailing quest was dangerous, so him taking part in this rodeo would definitely convince her that he was indeed a daredevil. The same sort of man she'd already broken off an engagement to. Would she banish him from her life in a similar way?
No! No, he wouldn't-couldn't-let that happen. He'd find a way to make her understand. But, just to be on the safe side, best not to mention it until Bob had all the arrangements in place, the contracts signed, and all systems were go. No point telling her about it now in case the plans somehow fell through. Better to wait, until everything was set in stone. Then he'd tell her.
Hell, he'd even invite her to come along! He could see them now, strolling the streets of Monaco, sailing together, her sitting in the arena, watching him trounce Handly.
Yes, indeed, that was a very good plan.
She won't understand, his inner voice interjected, souring his rosy fantasy. You're going to end up like the fiancé-dumped on your ass as if a bronc bucked you.
Raking his hands through his still damp hair, he ruthlessly squashed the voice. She would understand.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard, Ha!
He managed, with a great deal of effort, to ignore it.
Chapter 10
With the midmorning sun warming her back and the calm, clear turquoise water glistening with bright shafts of sunlight, Lexie stood on the resort dock, waiting for her next group of snorkelers to arrive. After double-checking that the gear was all ready, she sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled in what could only be described as a contented sigh.
The three days since she'd burned Josh his chocolate-chip cookies had whizzed by in a blur of happiness. Thanks to the exceptional weather, she and Josh continued their lessons by sailing the resort's sixteen-foot sailboat each morning for an hour before her shift began. He was learning fast, which didn't surprise her one bit. She could easily see him excelling at anything he set his mind to.
During the day, while she worked, Josh spent his time swimming and driving around to look at sailboats and sailing schools. She occasionally saw him in the afternoons, at the pool or on the beach, sometimes alone, sometimes chatting with other guests or entertaining a child. Several times she noted him challenging other pool swimmers to a race. He might not ride in the rodeo any longer, but his competitive spirit was clearly still alive and kicking. When he saw her he'd wave and wink, or blow her a kiss as she led a group snorkeling or to the dock for a scuba excursion. She'd wave back, knowing that in a matter of only a few hours, she'd be with him again.
They'd spent each evening together, once going out for dinner, twice cooking at her house. He taught her the finer points of "cowboy cuisine," such as to how to grill a steak and ribs, and she taught him how to burn toast and scorch pizza. He taught her how to make s'mores on the grill, and she taught him some really interesting uses for melted chocolate.
Josh bought her a beautiful cowboy hat, which she felt sort of odd wearing until she realized how much it turned him on-especially when she wore it and nothing else. Last night, after dinner, he'd taken her to the movies, but when he'd offered to see a chick flick no less, her eyes had narrowed with suspicion.
"Okay, what's wrong with you?" she'd asked.
"Nothing," he'd said, his face a mask of innocence.
She'd remained unconvinced-he couldn't be that perfect-and was soon proved right when she realized that it wouldn't have mattered what movie he'd taken her to since they sat in the last row and Josh wouldn't keep his hands or his lips to himself. She missed most of the show-not that she was complaining…
And the nights… magical, passionate nights spent in Josh's arms. Endless hours indulging in sensual exploration, learning, touching, talking, laughing.
A long sigh escaped her. She'd never, not even with Tony, felt like this. Had never imagined she could feel like this. She loved being with Josh. Loved seeing him smile and hearing him laugh. Loved watching his eyes twinkle with mischief, then darken with arousal. Loved seeing him interact with the fans-especially the children-who invariably found him at either the resort or the several restaurants they'd ventured out to. In fact, she loved everything about him.
She loved him.
The realization slammed into her like diving into the water and landing with a belly flop. This wasn't just physical attraction or infatuation. She was in love with Josh.
She stood on the dock, staring at the water, and rubbed her hand over the spot where her heart beat hard and fast.
Surely the realization should panic her. At the very least, distress and worry her, but instead only exh
ilaration rushed though her.
She shook her head. She must be losing her mind. She should not be happy about this. She was not supposed to fall in love with a fling, with her transition man. All the reasons they were wrong for each other flashed in her mind. He was temporary. A daredevil. Lived thousands of miles away.
But her heart bulldozed the reasons aside, visualizing the house she wanted to build on the peaceful cove she coveted-and right smack in the middle of her house stood Josh, smiling, arms open, waiting for her. She wanted him there, in her house, with her, sharing her life.
Closing her eyes, the words I love Josh washed over her like a warm rain. She loved him. Completely.
But what do to about it? They hadn't discussed the future, or the fact that he was scheduled to leave the resort in less than two weeks. It seemed that by some unspoken mutual agreement, they'd avoided the subject, but his rapidly approaching departure sat between them like a scowling Victorian chaperone.
Their time together was slipping away, yet how could she allow their relationship to simply end in a matter of days? She couldn't. But it wasn't just a matter of what she wanted. What did Josh want? Did he care for her as she cared for him? There was no doubt he enjoyed her physically-did his feelings run deeper than that? That night at the Blue Flamingo he'd hinted as much, but he hadn't broached the subject again.
Well, there was only one way to find out. Ask him. Ask how he felt. Ask if he wanted to try to figure out a way to make this work. Because the thought of him just leaving, of this being over, simply did not compute.
Perhaps this very subject was what he wanted to discuss with her? He'd left the resort at 10:00 a.m. to drive to Miami to meet with his business manager and several corporate sponsors. She'd walked him to his car and before driving off, he'd said, "Let's have dinner at your place tonight so we can talk."
Well, she was ready to talk. Ready to lay her cards on the table and tell him how she felt. Ready to hear him say he felt the same way. Ready to figure out a way for them to be together. Ready to work out a compromise so that could happen.
She could only pray he was ready to do the same.
* * *
Josh stood on Lexie's porch and took a deep, calming breath. Damn, he felt as nervous as a mouse wearing catnip perfume. Settle down. Everything's going to be fine.
But his mental pep talk did nothing to soothe his jangled nerves. Everything he wanted was inside this cozy house. And he was determined to have it. He just hoped the lady would agree.
If he'd been capable of laughter, he would have chuckled at himself. Even when facing the most ornery of bulls, he'd never felt this unsure or frightened. Well, he'd faced those bulls down. How much trouble could one small woman be?
Setting his jaw, he knocked. Seconds later Lexie opened the door, wearing a sultry smile.
And nothing else.
He actually felt his eyes bug out of his head. Good damn thing his jaw was attached to his head or else it would have hit the ground.
Reaching out, she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. Leaning back against the oak panel, she waggled her brows at him.
"Hiya, handsome."
He cleared his throat to locate his missing voice. "You're naked."
"Now that's what I like about you. Your superior powers of observation. Must come with the chemical engineer territory. But in this case you're wrong. I'm wearing cologne."
He shifted to relieve the strangulation occurring in the front of his jeans. "What if I'd been the mailman?"
"I knew it was you. I saw your car in the driveway." She erased the several feet between them with a sinful sway of her hips. When she stood directly in front of him, she walked her fingers up the front of his shirt, then pressed herself against him.
"Anytime you'd like to set down those grocery bags and give me a proper hello would be fine with me," she whispered against his neck.
The bags hit the tile. With a groan, he crushed her against him, fusing his lips to hers in a hot kiss that left them both breathless.
"I missed you all day," she whispered against his mouth while her fingers yanked open his shirt snaps. "Wanna know how much?"
"Yeah." The single word came out as a groan when she rubbed her breasts against his bared chest.
She turned them in a circle, until his back pressed against the door. His heart pounding, ragged breaths burning his lungs, he watched her sink to her knees. Slipping the button free on his jeans, she carefully eased down his zipper. He sucked in a breath of relief at the removal of the tight denim constricting him-a breath that was sharply cut off when she freed his erection and took him slowly into her mouth.
A long groan vibrated in his throat. Tunneling his fingers through her soft hair, he watched her pleasure him, absorbing the erotic sight of her lips gliding over him, the incredible feel of her tongue circling him.
His head dropped back, bumping against the door. It was too much, yet not enough. He couldn't take any more, yet his body craved, demanded more. More of her. Wrapped around him. Skin to skin. With a growl, he pulled her up, then turned her so she stood with her back braced against the door.
Quickly rolling on the condom from his back pocket, he cupped her buttocks in his palms and lifted her. She clasped her legs tightly around his hips and he slid into her wet heat. Sweat broke out on his brow and he gritted his teeth against the pleasure, wanting to sustain it, knowing he was helpless to do so.
"Do you suppose," she panted, her face flushed, eyes dark with need, "that someday you'll come over and we'll actually make it to the bedroom?"
"Not much chance of it if you open the door naked, sweetheart." He slid nearly all the way out, then glided deep, eliciting a purr of pleasure from her.
His orgasm was fast approaching, cutting off his ability to speak. He increased his tempo, reading her body with a knowledge born of many hours spent in sensual exploration. Seconds later she tightened around him and he let himself go, his release shuddering through him with a ferocity that left him barely able to remain standing.
A good minute passed before any sound save their choppy breathing filled the air. Finally he lifted his head from her fragrant neck and looked at her.
Her hair lay in frantic disarray, looking as if she'd been struck by lightning. Her skin glowed from the exertions of their lovemaking and her full lips were moist and slightly parted. Her eyes slid open and he found himself looking into slumberous hazel depths that sent a jolt straight to his heart.
A grin lifted one corner of her mouth. "I definitely think I should put a sofa in this foyer."
"Might be a good idea. Probably should think about one in the kitchen, too." He glanced down at the bags on the floor. "I think the eggs broke."
"What did you need them for?"
"I was hoping for an invite for breakfast."
"You're invited. And don't worry about the eggs." She shot him an exaggerated leer. "I'll have 'Josh over easy' for breakfast."
"Honey, you've already got 'Josh scrambled.' Seeing you open the door like this-" his hinds gently squeezed her bare butt "-I don't know if I'm comin' or goin'."
"Hmm. Well, tell you what. You feed us, then we'll 'go' to bed and I'll show you all about 'coming.'"
"Sounds like a plan. And I can vouch that you give good lessons, Miss Lexie."
She ran her finger over his bottom lip and adopted a prim, schoolmarmish expression that would have proved more convincing had she not been naked and still wrapped around his hips. "Of course I give good lessons. I am a teacher."
"That's perfect. 'Cause I'm more than willing to learn."
* * *
Lexie watched Josh all through dinner, and as the meal progressed, it became increasingly obvious that something was troubling him. He picked at his food and was uncharacteristically quiet. He caught the conversational ball when she tossed it, but he wasn't throwing out any first pitches. She knew he planned to talk to her about something-and she'd hoped that that something was good
news. Good news about their future. Good news about a way they could work things out and be together. But his silence and the way he avoided her eyes made those hopes die a slow, withering death. A knot formed in her stomach, growing until she couldn't force down another bite. Finally she set down her fork.
"Josh, what's wrong?"
He looked up and met her gaze with a troubled expression, a fact that edged further unease down her spine.
"Nothing's wrong," he said. Setting aside his napkin, he added, "But we definitely need to talk."
Her stomach executed a maneuver that would have impressed even the most finicky of Olympic judges. Not just we need to talk but we DEFINITELY need to talk. The addition of that adverb did not bode well at all.
Forcing a lightness into her voice she was far from feeling, she said, "I'm listening."
"We've sort of avoided the subject, but we both know I'm scheduled to leave here soon. And… I've got to go."
Another stomach triple somersault. "Back to Manhattan."
He hesitated. "Not exactly. Although I will have to go there." Reaching across the table, he clasped her hands. She forced herself not to avert her gaze from the bad news she clearly read in his expression. Whatever he was about to say, she wasn't going to like it. Knew it wasn't we're going to be together.
"I've accepted an invitation to take part in a rodeo next month."
Nope. That definitely wasn't We're going to be together. Damn it, she hated it when she was right. His statement reverberated through her mind, the ramifications striking her like openhanded slaps. She swallowed to wet her throat and dislodge the lump that had settled there.
"You're coming out of retirement." Was that flat, lifeless voice hers? Yup, sure was. And here she sat, with the Michael Jordan of rodeo. Numbness crept into her limbs. How many times had Mike unretired himself now? Two? Three?
In Over His Head Page 15
