12-Alarm Cowboys (167 page)

“Mmmm. Two, please.” She felt herself drifting, but wanted to stay awake to enjoy every minute of this.

“Wait, say that in a duck voice.” His chest shook as he laughed.

“Oh, no. I don’t know you well enough yet to use that voice during sex.” They both laughed then snuggled quietly, and soon his breath came deep and rhythmic. Smiling, Delta let herself follow him, deep and quiet.

‡

T
reven woke as
Delta jumped out of bed and ran to her room. Was that her phone making a noise like squealing tires? He grinned and sat up, sliding his legs over the edge of the bed. Knowing Delta, that’d be her ringtone.

The sun just peeked over the trees. Last night had been amazing. They’d made love and played and talked until they both crashed somewhere around four in the morning.

He used the bathroom then pulled on his stretch pants and wandered down the hall toward her bedroom.

“You’re serious?” Her voice was quiet.

He stopped just past her door, not sure if he should walk in to lend her support.

She was silent for a few minutes, then repeated it. Another bout of silence, and she groaned. “Have you told my uncle yet?”

Another pause.

“This is bullshit.” The sound of her bare feet pacing the floor reached him.

He hated to eavesdrop, but he was worried about her. It was an emotion he hadn’t experienced in a long, long time.

“Yeah, thanks. I will. G’bye.” More pacing. “Steven, I just heard from Kellan. Someone sabotaged my cars. Both of them.”

Treven froze, his heart stopping for a few beats. Sabotaged?

“Yes, that’s right. Trying to kill me.” She let out a fast breath. “Oh God. I’m so confused.” Her voice held the threat of tears. “Who would want me gone?”

“Okay.” She went silent for a time, still pacing. “No one knows I’m here but Kellan.”

Treven would invite her to stay as long as she needed to hide out with him. Should he hire a security company to—

“Yes, I know, Steve. But buying the land is the least of my worries right now.”

Buying the land? What did that mean? Treven moved a step closer to the door.

“Yes, I realize it’s why I’m here, but jeez, did you even hear me? Someone is trying to kill me? How do you expect me to concentrate on land deals when my life is in danger?” Her voice went shrill, then the bathroom door closed, and her loud, echoing words were no longer clear.

But what came through loud and clear was the fact that she was here to buy land.

She was not here for him. The realization thrust a hot poker directly through his heart.

Walking back to his room, he told himself there had to be a good explanation. He closed his door behind him and pressed the remote to shut the shades then lay on his bed. Alone.

Why wouldn’t she tell him she was here to buy land? And what did she need the land for?

A few minutes later, his door opened, lasering light across the bed. Treven closed his eyes, not ready to confront her on this. He didn’t have all the facts.

She silently closed the door and a few minutes later, he heard the distinctive squeak of the barn door opening. She’d gone out to do chores.

Now was the time for him to hear the facts. He sat up and dialed the operator, asking her to connect him with Pennington Racing, Inc. When they answered, Treven had to clear his throat a couple times. “Steven Pennington, please.” The words came out choked. This was not going to be easy.

A half-hour later, Treven stood in the dark kitchen, leaning back against the countertop.

Delta came in and flipped on the light. “Oh.” She jumped a little when she spotted him. A smile broke across her face. So beautiful, so sexy, so deceitful.

“I have something for you to look at.” He ground out the words as he pointed to the island where an eleven-by-seventeen color diagram sat. He’d printed out the picture Steven had sent him, detailing Pennington Racing’s plans for the area. Three more racing ovals spread around a forty-acre area. Hotels, resort cabins, golf courses, water parks, an amusement park, a man-made lake.

The smile left her face at his tone, and her brows dropped.

Yeah, he had to sound like a real ass, and he felt the tightness in his face, but he couldn’t help that. He was pissed.

She stepped to the island and looked at the paper, loudly sucking in a breath. “Treven.” Turning, she stared at him. “I should have told you.”

His hands fisted. “Yes, you should have.” Her uncle had been exceedingly glad to hear from him—once Treven had gotten past the receptionist by stating he was a landowner in Wild Oak, Texas. And Steven Pennington had voiced his pride in his niece, who’d finally convinced someone to sell their land. “Steven says ‘Hi.’ And he thanked me for saving your life.” Which, her uncle had done only as an afterthought.

Grasping the edge of the countertop with both hands, Delta opened her mouth to speak, then shut it with a snap.

“No excuses?” He crossed his arms, not thinking about how much it would hurt his hands. He’d skipped his morning pain meds so he could be clearheaded for this conversation. This confrontation.

Stepping toward him, she held out her hands, palms up. “I didn’t do this…” She glanced around the kitchen. “Didn’t come to the Rusty Horseshoe to convince you to sell your land. I came because I wanted to help you.”

He raised a brow. “But how convenient for you, that you made yourself look like a saint in front of my neighbors and friends, whose land you also want to buy.” He gestured to the printout. “That’s a lot of acreage, and with mine smack in the middle, somehow you had to be sure I’d sell. And girl, you found the perfect way to do it.”

Her eyes went wide and she shook her head. “No.”

Treven didn’t care for the taste in his mouth, the bitterness of what he hated to think—and worse—say out loud. “Had to go all the way and sleep with me to lock it in, right?”

“No.” Moving closer, she set her hand on her chest, over her heart. “Treven, I realize it may look that way. We barely know each other, and we’ve…” She pressed her lips together for a few seconds. “But despite what my uncle said, I was not here to buy land.” Delta flung one hand wildly. “I don’t even agree that we should move ahead with this project. It’s the family’s big plan.”

He waited, but she didn’t say more. Treven took a painful breath. “I think you should go.” The words stung like bees on the way out.

Her shoulders rounded and she walked past him. “I guess I’d better. There’s no way for me to convince you that I’m not that woman. That spoiled rich girl who does what it takes to get what she wants.”

Before he could process that, her bedroom door closed.

“Shit.” He’d expected a fight, a confession, an apology, then, maybe, in his wildest fantasy, she would stay and they would work it out. This, though, was totally out of his capacity to deal with. She’d just given up, walked away. That proved her guilt, right? So why did he feel like the guilty one right now? Just like he had when his wife had left him. Why was he cursed to fall for women who deserted him?

Her door opened and she brushed past, carrying her purse and her duffle bag. “I called Clint and told him I had to leave. He’s going to arrange people to help you.” Yanking open the back door, she stopped and looked his way. “Don’t sell, Treven. Your home is beautiful and if
you
don’t sell, they won’t be able to get anyone else in town to sell. Fight it.” Her voice broke. “You belong here.”

Treven sucked in a breath as his chest seemed to contract.

She left, quietly closing the door behind her.

Was he crazy for wanting to run after her? Wanting to ask her to come back and talk to him, help him understand why she’d done it? Or had she? Her behavior was unlike any woman he’d met and subsequently broken up with. This was unlike his ex-wife’s desertion, because he’d asked Delta to go.

Her yellow car passed the window on the way down the driveway.

Panic gripped him. Nothing made sense. There were so many questions he wanted to ask her. He didn’t have her phone number, though. Treven looked at his hands. He couldn’t even drive to chase after her. Why had he let her go? And he’d forgotten—someone was out there, wanting to kill her.

He was an ass. A moron. A man not worthy of a woman like Delta. How could he make this right?

*

Four weeks later,
Delta cruised the last dozen laps of a Florida race. She’d already been lapped by the lead cars, so no sense risking her life to get a better position. Hell, she didn’t even remember the name of the town, so this race couldn’t be too important, could it?

The last weeks had been torture on her. Walking away from Treven—at his request—had nearly put her into the ditch a mile from his house. The tears had blinded her and made her pull to the side of the road, crying like her world had ended until a passing vehicle stopped next to her.

Such nice people in Wild Oak. They didn’t deserve to have her company buy them out at cut-rate prices just so they could build a racing world resort that would serve only to put millions more into the company’s already overloaded bank accounts.

Delta wanted to do something else with the money. Do something that would make a difference in the world. She had no idea what, but she’d bet any money Treven would. He’d be a great resource for knowing any kind of organization that would help firefighters, fire safety education, maybe in-school classes for older kids who might be interested in becoming firefighters or paramedics.

But he’d never even tried to contact her, and she’d come to the realization that he’d been serious. She laughed a bitter croak. He was one mega-serious man, so when he’d asked her to leave, that was the end. No going back on that one.

Passing her pit area, she saw Kellan’s old whiteboard being held out for her by someone in a white hat. When she got closer, she could see the word.

Sorry.

“Strange. What was that for?”

Since learning that her crash and the brake line failure had been sabotage, Kellan had laid off—with pay—the entire pit crew until the investigation could be completed. He’d hired on people he knew and trusted from the old days. Retirees who’d been so out of practice, there’d been no way she could have possibly placed near the top of the three races she’d run since coming back after her near-deadly crash.

And now they’d gone back to communicating with her on the old white-board signs? Great. Things were just getting weirder and weirder. She’d lost so much of her love of the sport since the fiery spinout in Wild Oak, that nothing shone anymore. Everything seemed dull. Or was it the aftermath of losing Treven?

Coming around the turn again, she spotted the same person holding that goofy sign. This one was different.

Forgive me.

“No.” She craned her neck as she sped past, but at that speed, she couldn’t see a face. When her heart skipped a beat and her lips curved up into a smile all on their own, she knew it was him.

Her cowboy.

Nine laps left. She saw no sign, no man in a white hat for the next few laps, then he was there again, holding out the whiteboard.

I was a real.

She blinked. “A real?”

Then next lap, three letters, written so big, they took up the whole board.

Ass.

Delta laughed and went two laps trying to blink the tears from her eyes. On her last lap, she spotted the man in the white cowboy hat, not holding anything this time, and she pressed the palm of her hand to the net over the window.

He raised his hat and whipped it in a circle above his head.

Glancing heavenward for a second, a chill raced through her. “Thank you.”

The checkered flag marked the end of the race and she cruised into her pit area.

Her team helped her out of the car and she tugged off her helmet and hood. “Where is he?”

Kellen hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “By your trailer.” Her pit chief shook his head and stomped away. “Kids.”

She didn’t care what anyone thought of her or Treven. This was something real for her, something she wanted more than anything, even racing. Delta ran for her man.