12-Alarm Cowboys (165 page)

Brushing past him, she shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t want to risk waking you.”

He followed her into the kitchen, admiring the way her nice ass wiggled in those shorts. “I was pretty much dead in there.”

She flipped on the lights and shook a pain pill out of the bottle. “Ready?” She held it up.

His hands hurt. Bad. Otherwise he’d say no and offer to sit up with her and watch TV. “Yep.”

Supper was a comedy with her handling two bowls of stew and two spoons. Then she walked to the hall closet and pulled out a box. “Now, I don’t know how you’re going to feel about this.” Her mouth quirked in a frown as she opened the lid on the box and pulled out a yard-long plastic stick with a sponge on the end. “But one of your neighbors dropped this off with a few other things that might make your life easier.”

Treven stared at the sponge, realizing just how completely helpless he was, and the glaring way that weakness was prominently displayed in front of the sexiest woman he’d ever gotten close to. “Just kill me, Delta. Please.”

She snorted, then laughed. He laughed with her, and they ended the night falling asleep next to each other on the couch, watching an old western on the big screen.

*

The next morning,
Delta stood outside the walk-in shower in Treven’s bathroom, adjusting the water temperature for him as he stood under the cascading spray. The plastic bags on his hands were secured to his forearms with the waterproof tape she’d found in the box from his neighbor lady. In his black underwear, he was a gorgeous specimen of man, all wet muscle and long sinews.

Her gaze finally made it back to his face, and he smirked at her. “Could I impose on you to wash my hair for me?”

“I’d be happy to.” She sounded a little too eager, but her fingers itched to touch him, wash his hair, soap him down. Everywhere. After the shampoo, conditioner, and a brief rubdown with the bar of soap on every inch of skin not covered by his underwear, her whole body tingled with chills of desire. The smell of his manly products, the firm contours of his body. And surprise! In his underwear, he had a half-mast chubby. For her.

What would he say if she stripped off her clothes and joined him?

“Thank you, Delta.” He turned his back to her. “I can take it from here.”

Disappointment doused her like cold water. “Shout if you need anything.” She wandered back to the kitchen and chose a casserole to put into the oven for lunch, then emptied the dishwasher from the morning meal. She didn’t have chores to do until later. If Treven wasn’t sleepy, she’d love to spend time with him.

Opening the hall closet door, she reached up and took down four games in colorful boxes. This would keep them busy. And keep her mind off her thoughts of jumping Treven and inventing naked games to play with him.

*

It took over
a week for the pain to abate enough for Treven to be able to use his hands for a few things. After two trips to town to see the doctor, and daily visits from friends and neighbors—all bearing gifts—Delta had settled into life on his ranch. And she loved it.

No traveling cross-country, no media circus surrounding her, no dealing with her uncle about expenses and mistakes she made on the track. And how rare that she could wear just shorts and an old T-shirt? Plopping down on a rocking chair on the porch, she set down her tall glass of iced lemonade and breathed in the sweet, warm evening air.

She liked him. The brave cowboy who volunteered as a fire fighter in his spare time. They’d played every game he had in the house, taken walks when he was feeling well enough, and had watched television. Mostly, though, they talked. Not about anything deep or soul-searching, but about their lives and how they’d gotten to where they were.

She’d learned about his wife, who’d left the ranch four years earlier because she couldn’t stand the country life. The girl had given Treven an ultimatum—move to Houston with her, or she’d go alone—and she’d gone without him and gotten a divorce. He didn’t seem too broken up about it, though, so maybe the relationship hadn’t been all that strong to begin with. But he’d torn down the old house he’d grown up in and had this amazing new one built. What did that say about him?

The screen door opened and Treven walked out, wearing a white T-shirt and gray sweatpants. “Hey.” He stretched and yawned, coming around after his long nap.

When his shirt rode up, exposing a peek at his firm abs, she snuck a look. “Want some lemonade?”

“No, thanks.” He padded barefoot and sat in the chair next to hers. “Nice evening.”

“Beautiful.” The sun would set to their left, over the field, and would turn the tall grass golden. She loved this time of day here. Peaceful. Something she’d never thought she’d crave.

“Supper was good. Thanks.”

Rex Tarrow, the dark firefighter who’d helped her that day on the track, had brought hamburgers, and she’d asked him where the grill was. Rex had directed her to an electric grill on the patio off the back of the house. That had gotten her thinking, and while Treven slept after the three of them ate, she checked the water heater. Electric. The furnace. Electric. Clothes dryer. Electric. There were no gas appliances on the property.

“What is it, Delta?” He stared at her with those intense green eyes.

“Why do you think there’s something?”

“You stopped rocking. You’re in constant motion. Unless something’s wrong.”

Delta used her toes to get the chair moving again. “May I ask you something personal?”

“We’ve been talking personal all week. I don’t see why anything would be off limits.”

A smile curved her lips. She’d told him about how her father hadn’t known about her until, on her fifth birthday, her mother had dropped her off at his big house in an Atlanta suburb. And Mom had never come back. Her world tilted and wobbled that day, and had never truly righted itself since.

Dad never adopted her, legally, but he’d changed her name and taught her how to drive race cars. He’d brought her on the circuit with him and had given her cars and a pit crew when she came of age. Then, when he’d died in a dirt bike accident five years ago, her uncle had ended up managing Dad’s estate, and treating Delta like she was a commodity, not a relative.

But, as long as she made money for Pennington Racing, he gave her some latitude to do what she wanted.

“You stopped rocking again.” Treven’s voice held a hint of worry.

“Guess I’m the kind of girl who can only do one thing at a time.” She turned toward him. “Will you tell me about the scars on your neck and shoulder?” The burn mark concerned her, made her want to hear the whole story. To hear another piece of Treven’s life, and share another bit of personal information with this man who’d snuck his way into her heart.

He huffed out a breath and got his own chair rocking. After a few minutes, he cleared his throat and stopped moving. “I was twelve.” He pointed in the direction of the outbuildings. “We had a fire in the barn. My sister…” He didn’t move, just stared at the barns.

He’d already mentioned that he’d grown up here. Said his parents were now living in a retirement community on the Gulf of Mexico. But he’d never spoken of a sister.

“They think she started it. She was fifteen, and had a boyfriend with her in the hayloft. They were smoking.”

“Oh, Treven.” She heard the pain in his voice, hadn’t meant to dig up such a terrible memory. “I’m sorry. If you’d rather not discuss—”

“No.” He reached over as if he wanted to take her hand, then shook his head as he stared at the big white bandage.

She wrapped her fingers around his forearm and gave him a soft smile.

Treven blinked a couple times, looking at her as if he was just seeing her for the first time. “I want to talk about it. I’ve never talked about it with anyone.”

Her brows rose. He’d never talked about it with his wife?

With a harsh laugh, he took his arm back, and she laced her fingers together in her lap.

He stared off into the distance. “I couldn’t save her. Rhianna. My sister. I climbed the ladder, but the fire was too hot.” His jaw clenched, a cracking sound came from his mouth.

“You were only twelve.”

“I was a big kid, strong for my age. Back then, the ranch had cattle and I worked with Dad when I could.” He went silent for a while. “I was hit by a falling board, knocked down, and burned. But that probably saved my life because the roof collapsed over the hay loft, and the whole thing came down.”

“That’s so sad.” She rocked slowly. “And that’s why you’re a volunteer firefighter?”

“Yep. I joined when I turned eighteen. Even though I have a fear…no, a complete and nightmarish paranoia about fire.”

That explained the lack of gas appliances, and the electric grill. “But you ran right in and saved me without a thought for your own safety.” Had it been to prove something to himself after all these years?

“Delta.” He sat forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “I knew I would be burned. I didn’t care. I had my chance to prove I could do it. That’s why I went in after you. Not because I’m some hero, like you said.” After a few minutes, he stood and walked to the railing. “I wanted to know I was capable of saving someone.” His voice caught on the last word.

Foolish man. Why was he overanalyzing this? She stood and walked to him, wrapping her arms around him from behind and pressing her cheek to his back. “The term
hero
might not sit right with you, but it doesn’t matter why you reached into those flames. And why you risked getting blown up along with me if the gas tank had gone up. And why you dragged me to safety.”

He stiffened.

“Treven, you didn’t have time to think, you just acted. Now, after the fact, with your body coping with the residuals of the pain pills, this might not be the best time.”

He turned and wrapped his arms around her, looking into her eyes. “What are you saying?” His voice came out too quiet.

“I’m saying that you can analyze your actions from now ’til the end of days, but in that moment, in that split-second, you ran straight for danger and did what few people would have done. And those who would have done the exact same thing? They’d probably have solid reasons for doing it too. Some of which might even be, ‘I wanna be a hero!’”

Tipping his head down and getting closer to her, he swallowed hard. “How is it you understand me so well?”

She cupped his strong jaw in the palms of her hands. “I’m not sure.” Delta looked into his beautiful eyes. “But I do know that I don’t want to leave here without spending a night with you.”

His brows shot up.

“And I know that’s forward and fast and flirty, but I’ve got the hots for you, Treven Arnett. And I want to do something about it.”

‡

T
reven nearly shouted
with relief. Here, he’d thought Delta looked on him with pity, the poor rancher who couldn’t do a thing for himself; and imagined she was pacifying her guilt over ultimately causing him so much pain. After he told her his ambivalent feelings about the reason he saved her, he thought she’d back away even further.

But here she was, her hands on his face, pulling him in for a kiss. And he would damn sure accept any offer she made. He pressed his lips to hers, tugged her in tighter using just his forearms, and pushed his hips forward. Her hips against his sent a manic plunge of heat down his spine and into his cock. “Yeah.” Whispering the word, he tasted her, the seam of her lips, her tongue, the roof of her mouth.