A Bravo Homecoming (8 page)

“Good point.” He slipped a tender hand around her nape, pulled her close and kissed her.

When she lifted her mouth from his, she asked, “You think it’s a bad idea?”

He brushed the side of his finger along the length of her arm. “I didn’t say that. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

She took his lips again, a quick, hard kiss. “The more I think about the college thing, about
really
changing things up, the more I like it.”

“I see.” Then he asked, “Will you spend Christmas with your dad?”

With a happy sigh, she turned on her side, settling her head on the strong bulge of his shoulder, resting her hand lightly over his heart. It was a revelation, just to lie like this, together. Naked and warm under the covers.

He nuzzled her hair. “I asked you a question.”

“Who knows?” She turned her head into his body, pressed her lips to the curve where his shoulder met his broad torso. Then she snuggled back down again. “My dad likes to keep all his options open the past few years, since he sold the ranch. He and Keisha lead a footloose kind of life.”

He traced a heart at her temple—at least it felt like a heart. “Maybe we could come here, spend Christmas at Bravo Ridge.”

She kidded, “Next you’ll be asking me what I’m doing New Year’s.”

“You know, I just might.” He brushed her hair back from her forehead. “Ted and Keisha can come, too.”

“Right. Park the Winnebago out in front. So classy. Your mom and dad will love that.”

He traced the outer curve of her ear. She loved the way he touched her, so casually—and yet so intimately. He said, “It’s a big ranch. Plenty of room for a Winnebago.”

It seemed to her he was pushing kind of hard on the Christmas thing. She teased, “I thought you said you didn’t want to rush me….”

He caught her chin with a gentle hand and held her gaze. “I lied.”

She scolded, “You know, you’ve been doing way too much of that lately.”

“You’re right. I’ll have to watch it.” He smiled. And then he kissed her.

After that, they didn’t need words. They let their bodies do the talking. It was a very satisfying “conversation,” even if they did have to stop short of letting go completely.

And it wasn’t until much later, as he slept in her arms, that she started thinking again—or maybe over-thinking. Whatever you called it, well, she couldn’t help but reconsider the issue she’d blown off when he first brought it up.

He’d said he didn’t want to rush her.

And then, well, he did kind of seem to be doing just that—no, not with the lovemaking. She had made the choice on that. And she wasn’t sorry. Not in the least. She was thirty years old. About time she spent a beautiful night with her own personal Prince Charming.

But really, he
had
done a head-spinning about-face that night. In the space of a few hours, he’d changed from a guy who wanted nothing to do with love—to someone who looked at her as though he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life at her side. A guy who wanted to invite her dad and his twenty-six-year-old girlfriend to the family ranch for Christmas.

True, the change was a dream come true for her.

Still, something about it didn’t seem right.

Sam scowled into the darkness. Then again, maybe
she
was the one with the problem. He offered her exactly what she’d been longing for….

And she ended up wide awake in the middle of the night, holding him close to her—and worrying that there must be something wrong with him.

I
n the morning, Sam’s worrisome doubts disappeared.

Maybe it was waking up to find the thin almost-winter sun peeking through the drawn curtains—and Travis smiling at her.

She pretended to grumble. “What are you grinning about?”

He lifted up on an elbow, the gorgeous muscles in his arms and chest flexing as he moved. “I had a great time last night.” His hair looked slightly blenderized and his eyes were low and lazy.

“Me, too.” She thought about the things they’d done last night. Then she thought how they would probably do those things again tonight—and more, if they managed to get their hands on a box of condoms. Such thoughts made a fluttery weakness down in the center of her, made her want to pull him close to her, keep him there, in her bed, all day long and into the night again.

“You should see your face,” he said. “Your eyes are making promises. And your mouth is driving me wild.” He bent close—and bit her chin. It was a tender bite, more of a gentle scrape of his teeth against her skin, really. It didn’t hurt.

But it did make that weakness in her center turn liquid. “Oh, Travis…”

“I love it when you say my name that way—like I make you weak in the knees.”

“You do,” she whispered. “In the knees. Everywhere…”

He eased a hand beneath the covers. His rough, tender fingers danced across her skin.

She moaned and let her eyes drift shut.

Several minutes passed before she opened them again. By then, she was breathless and limp. And very much satisfied.

It seemed only fair to make sure he was satisfied, too.

Somehow, they were still in bed at five of nine. She insisted that they shower separately. It was the only way to guarantee that they wouldn’t get distracted and end up staying in their rooms for half the day.

She was dressed and finishing her light makeup, brushing on the final touch of mascara, when she saw him in the mirror, standing in the bathroom doorway. He looked so good, freshly shaved and wearing khakis and a dark blue sweater with the sleeves pushed halfway up his corded forearms.

He watched her with a definite gleam in his eyes. “Seeing you with your clothes on just makes me want to take them off you again.”

She paused with the mascara wand a few inches from her face. “Forget that. Your family will think we’re a couple of sex fiends.”

“So what? Happily engaged couples tend to be sex-obsessed.”

“But we’re not engaged. Not really.” She went back to stroking on the mascara.

“But are we sex-obsessed?”

She decided not to answer that one.

He arched an eyebrow. “So, have you decided to tell them all that you’re not my fiancée after all?”

She stuck the wand in the base, screwed it shut. “I met them only yesterday.” She blew out a breath through puffed cheeks and admitted, “I just don’t want to do that at this point. I can’t believe I’m such a frickin’ coward.”

He made a chiding sound with that clever tongue of his. “Did you just say frickin’?”

She canted her chin high. “Hey, I may know how to dress and put on makeup and use the right fork now, but underneath, I’m as crude and unrefined as I ever was.”

“And I’m really happy about that.” He seemed to mean it.

And it mattered to her that he hadn’t forgotten the Sam he’d always known. Still, she warned, “Well, just remember, I can take you down if you get out of line.”

He grunted. “Doubt it.”

She dropped the mascara back in her makeup bag. “Want to try me?”

In the mirror, his eyes flashed with sudden, wonderful heat. “Tonight. In bed.”

“Bawkbawkbawk.”

He came away from the door. In the mirror, she watched him approach. Was it just her, or was it suddenly hotter in there? His gentle hands clasped her shoulders. She shut her eyes, drew in a slow, steadying breath. He asked, “Who’re you calling chicken, huh?” It was a threat. A really tempting one.

“Chicken?” She put on a puzzled frown. “Did I say that?”

He bent, kissed her neck, drawing on the skin a little. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough to send a shiver running under her skin. He caught her eyes again in the mirror. “Take it back?”

She turned to face him. “I guess, for now, I’ll have to, won’t I?”

He grinned. Slowly. “You will if you plan to make an appearance downstairs anytime soon.”

As far as Travis was concerned, they could have stayed upstairs in their rooms all week. He could have called a pharmacy and had the condoms they needed delivered. He could have asked to have their meals left at the door.

Him and Sam. Who knew?

It was a question he’d been asking a lot lately—ever since he’d seen this new, exciting side of her. She was a revelation.

In the past six or seven years, he’d slowly come to realize that she was probably the best friend he had. His best friend. And now this. Every hour he was with her, he was happier with himself and the world.

He wanted to keep her safe. And at his side. If he could do both of those things, well, he’d be one lucky guy. The higher-ups at STOI were constantly offering him opportunities to work full-time on shore. He could step up to rig superintendent, with a number of company men on different rigs reporting to him. In fact, a promotion was available to him in the next couple of months if he wanted it.

So he could come home most nights. And she was making a change, too, giving up work on offshore rigs. He was glad about that. The work was too dangerous.

Accounting. Now, there was a job where you couldn’t get hurt. He approved of that for her.

Well, except that getting her degree would mean she’d be putting in long hours in class and studying. And didn’t accountants work sixty-to-seventy-hour weeks?

All that time. Away from him…

Anything might happen to her. The most innocent activities—something so simple as walking across the street—could spell disaster. He knew that too well.

They would have to talk about it, about what was the best choice for her, for
them.

He took her hand, kissed the back of it. “You just
have
to go downstairs, huh?”

She eased her fingers from his hold and looked at him sternly. But her beautiful eyes were shining. “You recently spent a big pile of money improving my manners, and now you want me to be rude?”

He tried to look pitiful. “It’s rude to stay here with me?”

“It’s rude to go visit people and then not spend any time with them—which I don’t need to tell you because you have a mama who loves you and brought you up right.”

He had to admit he agreed with her. So they went downstairs.

When they entered the big, farm-style kitchen, his mom and dad were the only ones there. The older couple sat at the table, sipping coffee.

His dad said slyly, “We were wondering if you two would ever get up.”

“Don’t listen to Davis,” his mom instructed. “You two are on vacation. Stay in bed every day till noon if it suits you.”

Travis bent over her and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Mom. We just might.”

She reached back and patted the side of his face. “It does my heart good to see you so happy, honey.”

“I am,” he said. Sam was watching them. He met her eyes. Zap. Just sharing a look with her got him hot.

Davis got up. “How about my famous sourdough pancakes, maybe some bacon and scrambled eggs?”

Sam said, “Davis, I think you read my mind.”

“Where is everybody?” Travis went to the counter to get the coffeepot and a couple of mugs for him and Sam.

Davis was already at the stove. “Elena and Rogan went out to the stables with Mercy and Luke.” Bravo Ridge was a working horse ranch. Luke bred quarter horses, both for work and for show. “They took the kids.” The kids, Travis assumed, would be Elena and Rogan’s baby, Michael, and also Mercy and Luke’s two, Lucas and little Serena. The rest of his brothers and sisters and their families had gone on home because they all lived nearby. Elena and Rogan, though, made their home in the Dallas area, and had driven down to the ranch for the week.

Some of the Bravo family relationships were…interesting, to say the least.

Elena and Mercy were very close. Mainly because Elena was not only his dad’s illegitimate daughter, but she was also Mercy’s sister, though not by blood. Mercy had been adopted at the age of twelve by Elena’s mom, Luz, and Luz’s husband, Javier.

In fact, until just a few years ago, everyone except Luz had believed that Javier Cabrera was Elena’s natural father. When the truth came out, there had been big trouble in both families. That was when Travis’s dad and mom had separated. Luz and Javier had lived apart, too.

But everyone seemed to have worked through the old garbage now. They all got along.

“We’re all invited to Abilene and Donovan’s for dinner tonight,” said his mom.

Sam grinned. “I’ll get to see their new Hill Country dream house.”

His mom, always big on touching, reached over and patted Sam’s hand. “Yes, you will. It’s a beautiful place not far from Fredericksburg.”

Travis set Sam’s coffee in front of her. She sent him a smoldering glance. “Thanks.” He considered plunking his mug and the coffeepot down on the table, grabbing her, tossing her over his shoulder and heading for the stairs.

But then he had another idea. He put his own mug down in the place beside hers. “Abilene and Donovan’s isn’t all that far from the cabin….”

His dad had turned the burners on under the cast-iron griddle. He cracked an egg into a striped bowl. “That’s right.” He asked Sam, “Travis tell you about the cabin?”

“He did, yeah.” Her gaze and Travis’s met again. She wore a fond, knowing smile. It was good, he was thinking, to be with a woman who knew his history, who had heard all his stories of growing up a Bravo. She not only understood him better because of all that she knew about him, but she also had a common ground with his mom and dad and the rest of the family. She turned to Davis again. “He’s always said it was beautiful there, that your whole family used to go there camping when he was growing up. Sounded like heaven to me.”

His dad cracked another egg and agreed, “It’s a beautiful spot.” He picked up a wire whisk and started beating the eggs with it. “The cabin was pretty much a shack in the old days, when we all used to camp there. A few years back, we had it renovated. Now it’s not only picturesque, but it has all of the comforts of home.”

At his mother’s nod, Travis refilled her coffee. He carried the pot back to the counter and suggested casually, “Maybe I’ll take Sam to the cabin today, show her around.”

Sam glanced at him sharply. And then she rolled her eyes—but quickly, so neither his mom nor his dad would catch her doing it. She’d guessed what he was up to. Which was maybe the drawback of being with someone who knew him so well.

So what? A few slow, deep kisses and she’d be glad he’d carried her off to the family cabin.

They could get condoms in Fredericksburg. And the cabin was cozy and private, with a nice, big comfortable bed in the bedroom.

His mom beamed. “What a lovely idea.”

After breakfast, they toured the stables. Sam was raised on a ranch. She’d been riding since she was barely able to walk. She was brimming with praise for Luke’s horses and the first-class operation he ran.

Luke asked if they wanted to ride, to get out and see more of Bravo Ridge. Sam said she’d love that. Travis started to get his hopes up. He could just picture it—the two of them, riding out alone, finding some private place in a stand of trees to hobble the horses and share a few kisses.

He was thinking they could spread a saddle blanket on the ground. Yeah, there was a nip in the air, but they could warm each other up real fast.

His big plans quickly crashed and burned. Elena and Rogan decided to go with them. Mercy said she’d watch the kids.

So it was the four of them.

It turned out to be a good time. Elena and Sam seemed to hit it off, which wasn’t all that surprising. Sam got along with everyone in his family. For Travis, it was an opportunity to get to know his half sister and her husband a little better. Rogan and Elena had met a year and a half ago, when Rogan came to San Antonio to buy out Javier Cabrera’s construction business.

Rogan was a big, good-looking guy with a winning smile, of Irish descent. Travis found he approved of the way that Rogan looked at Elena, a world of love and admiration in his green eyes.

They were back at the ranch by one. Mercy had lunch ready. So they didn’t get away until two. They were expected at Abilene’s by six.

That gave them four hours to themselves. Travis planned that they’d spend the majority of it naked in the cabin, rolling around on that nice, big bed.

But they had to stop in Fredericksburg to get the condoms. He pulled in at the Walgreens off Main and told Sam he’d be right back.

She made one of those snorty noises she used to make all the time, before the big makeover and her transformation into the sexiest woman on planet Earth. “Forget that. It’s not like I’m some sweet little Texas rose. I’m not the least embarrassed to be seen buying my own contraception.”

He gave her a long-suffering look. “I was more thinking of making it quick. You know, so we can be alone?”

“It won’t take any longer if I come in.”

“Sam, I’ll only be a minute.”

“You mean
we’ll
only be a minute because I’m coming in.”

There’d never been any arguing with Sam once she made up her mind about something. She’d already leaned on her door and swung her long, strong legs out.

They went in together.

And then, once she got to the condom display, well of course she insisted on acting just like a woman: She had to read every damn label. The only thing she was sure about was that he needed a large.

Which, he had to admit, was gratifying.

She was intrigued by the textured ones—for greater stimulation. And she kind of thought the ones with different fruity flavors would be fun. Did he want the “extra sensitive”? Would that give him a better experience?