No Better Man (8 page)

“Are you listening to me?” She leaned over the console between them and got in his face, close enough that he could smell oranges, that he could trace the sexy curve of her upper lip with his tongue if he’d wanted to.

“Have you heard anything I’ve said?”

The throb started again, deep in his chest, invading his body until it occupied all of him.

“Seriously, Bryce this is—”

Screw it.
He cupped his hand around the back of her head and roughly brought her lips to his, totally unprepared for the impact it would have. Shock waves coursed through him, unleashing a craving stronger than he’d ever felt.

Avery squeaked in surprise but he didn’t let up. Need thundered through him and it was a helluva lot louder than the logic he’d spent the last several hours beating into his thick skull. Her lips were soft and moist and everything he’d hungered for during the last three lonely years. He gentled a hand up into her hair. It felt like silk against his skin.

A small moan purred in her throat and her upper body relaxed, lips melding to his in a pulsating heat. She ran her hands up his chest, and that was all he needed. He bent forward, halfway over the console, gathering her closer, kissing her harder, deeper. If it wasn’t for that console, he’d pull her right into his lap…

“Wow. Just…wow,” she whispered against his lips.

He answered by parting her lips with his tongue. There. That’d take care of her chatting problem.

Avery gasped a sharp intake of air, her chest rising against his.

Taking it as an invitation, he commanded her with his lips, opening and closing them in a sensual rhythm. A dull ache resounded in his chest. God, he’d forgotten the depth of a kiss…

He shifted to get a better angle, more access, but that console…

She pulled back with a small smile, lips grazing his in a tease, then she pressed in again and proved that she could make out as well as she could talk.

A scratching sound scraped the window. Moose whined, then barked.

Great timing, as usual.

Avery pulled away, eyes sparkling with a look of happy surprise. “Um…” Her tongue ran over her lips and her eyes peered up into his. “We should talk about this.”

No. Oh, hell, no. As far as he was concerned, there wasn’t much to say. She tasted good. Real good. But now that he was breathing in the fresh, mountain air, instead of her intoxicating scent, he remembered. Yvonne. Her face haunted him, and that kiss…it was intense and real and it felt exactly like a betrayal.

“Bryce…” Avery collected his hand in hers. “That was…really something. I’m just not sure—”

“Sorry.” He yanked his hand out of hers. Time to go. “Good night, Avery.” Air pounded for release in his lungs as escaped from the truck. Without looking back, he jogged into the office, the burn of want still torturing him.

Once inside, he slumped into the chair behind the desk and stared blankly at the wall. Holy hell. He’d kissed her. He’d kissed Avery King.

Well. That ought to shut her up.

F
our days. Bryce had managed to avoid her for four flipping days. Avery left her guest suite and marched down the hall to the Walker Mountain Ranch dining room, like she did every morning. It had become something of a routine. Over breakfast, she’d ask Elsie when she could expect to see him, and each day the woman apologized and made excuses.

“Sorry, dear. He’s helping Sawyer install a patio today.”

“He took an overnight trip to Denver for some supplies.”

“He’s rock climbing with Shooter.”

If his mother knew about the kiss, she didn’t let on, but she obviously felt bad that Bryce was clearly avoiding her, profusely apologizing on her son’s behalf and making Avery a gourmet breakfast every morning as a peace offering. Quite effective, the way that woman could cook.

For the most part, Avery had managed to put on a good performance and act like Bryce’s absence didn’t matter. But it made it impossible for her to do her job. Not to mention…how could he kiss her like that? Like she was water and he was half-dead with thirst—then avoid her like nothing had happened? She wasn’t sure if she should be humiliated, angry, or completely infatuated with the man. Her brain, her body, and her heart had been battling it out, and so far her body seemed to be winning, quaking with sheer elation every time she pictured his face.

Warding off another internal earthquake, she rounded the corner into the great room and was greeted with the scent of strong coffee. It reminded her of her father. He preferred his coffee like motor oil and always drank it black. That smell was all it took to wake her up.

Today. She had to talk to Bryce today. Over the last three days, Dad had left her twelve messages. She’d texted him and claimed that things were moving forward, but that her cell reception was bad. She’d promised to have an answer for him by today. Therefore, it didn’t matter if Bryce was hiding in Denver again. She’d track him down, force him to face her, and make one closing argument for why it would be better for him to sell for millions than to lose it all to the bank.

“Good morning!” Elsie swooped across the dining room and wrapped her in a customary hug.

“Morning.” She hugged her back, always calmed by the woman’s soft and friendly presence.

Elsie pulled away, a special glimmer in her eyes. “I hope you don’t mind, dear. But I’ve packed a ‘to go’ breakfast for you today.” She gestured to the table, where a small picnic basket sat, almost overflowing with goodies.

To go?
Avery walked over and peeked inside. Muffins, granola bars, plump red grapes and a Tupperware container of fancy sliced cheeses. “Wow.” For the first time in quite awhile, a grin stretched her mouth. “So where am I going?”

“Well…” Elsie clasped her hands like she was trying to quell her excitement. “Bryce has to work in the stables today. I thought I’d send you out there to share with him.”

Sure enough, the traitorous tremble worked its way up her body and ended in a heated flush on her face. She had Mom’s Scandinavian complexion to thank for that.

“Besides,”—Elsie murmured with a sly expression—“the horses need to get out. It’s been weeks, and it’s a beautiful morning for a ride.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Outside the dining room windows, the flawless blue sky stretched out, clear and glassy, as serene as a lake on a still evening. Despite the fact that she’d once had a bad experience on a horse, it was the perfect scenario. A ride would give her extra time with Bryce. He wouldn’t be able to avoid her. That alone made it worth risking her life.

“So what do you say, dear?” Elsie asked with a hopeful smile. “Will you take breakfast out to Bryce?”

“Of course,” she answered quickly to ward off any suspicions the woman had about what had happened between them.

Yeah, right.
His mom’s knowing glance proved it was too late for that.

“Wonderful,” the woman purred. “Out you go now.” She carefully placed the basket in Avery’s hands and shooed her to the back door. “You tell him I said those horses need to get out today, you hear? If he tries to argue, send him in here to me.”

Despite the apprehension building in her stomach, Avery laughed. “I’ll tell him.” Not that it would do any good. Once he saw her, he might take off before she could say a word.

On the back concrete stoop, Elsie gently patted her shoulder. “Have fun, dear. The stables are just down that path.” She pointed to a strip of dirt that had been worn into the tall grasses behind the lodge. “Good luck!”

Yeah. Luck. Her legs wobbled as she made her way down the steps. Something told her she’d need more than luck to get through to Bryce.

The stables sat in a clearing next to a narrow brook that gushed in a shallow crevasse of the land. With her feet scuffing the dirt, Avery ambled toward the log-sided building about twenty yards ahead. It resembled the lodge, constructed with the same log beams, that were now cracked and peeling. Three wide stalls opened in the front, and a horse whinnied from somewhere inside.

All around her, the outside world was still waking up. Pinkish streaks looped and whirled across an opalescent sky. Stillness smothered everything underneath an awestruck blanket. Not even a bird chirped. She breathed in the slight honeyed scent of wet grass, hoping it would calm her.

It didn’t.

Anticipation closed in on her, making her breaths shallow and her heart pound harder. She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the way Bryce had touched her in the truck, about the way his lips had catapulted her into a new realm of awareness she’d never before experienced. If he hadn’t pulled away and left her sitting there, she was pretty sure she would have gone anywhere with him…

No, no.
She couldn’t think that way. Not right now. Not when she was about to spend the morning with him. She had to handle him just like she’d handled Tommy Atchison when he’d threatened to pull out of the London project, just like she’d handled Larrisa Payne when she’d waffled on the merger. He was a business associate, nothing more. A potential partner. At least that was how she looked at anyone who sat on the other side of the negotiation table.

Approaching the stables, her feet tread carefully. Just outside the doors, she stopped and peered into the dimness.

Bryce had his back to her. He stood next to a glossy brown horse, hands working to secure a bridle around its muzzle. His movements were calm and gentle, not like they’d been with her in the truck: desperate and commanding and powerful.

She gathered a breath, then let it out slowly, taking the opportunity to study him. In the dim light his profile looked softer. His dark hair curled down over his ears, carefree but somehow right. She watched him smooth his worn hands down the horse’s neck. They were careful and precise.

“Ahem.” She cleared her throat to announce her presence because standing there watching him would not help her maintain a strict level of professionalism. Already, her heart had started that slow melt in her chest.

Bryce glanced over and instantly pulled his features into that hardened mask he’d worn the first time she met him. “What’re you doing here?” He turned back to the horse like he was afraid to look at her.

She was afraid, too. There. She admitted it. She feared him. Feared what he had made her feel with one kiss. Feared what he made her want.

But she refused to hide from him the way he’d hidden from her. He obviously didn’t want to discuss the kiss. That was fine. They didn’t have to. She didn’t plan to mention it. Only one topic of conversation mattered. So she strode over to him and set the picnic basket on a nearby chair, feigning confidence and authority, praying he wouldn’t see through it. “We’re going on a ride, apparently,” she said with a smirk. “Elsie’s orders.”

His hand paused on the horse’s wide girth. “Excuse me?”

“Your mom said the horses need to get out. And I’ve been dying to see the view she keeps talking about.” Her heart quaked. “She said you’d take me riding.”

“She did, huh?” The words were strained, as if he had a hard time relaxing his jaw. He turned to face her, took his time looking her up and down. “Have you ridden much?” he asked with a glimmer of amusement in those dark green eyes.

She tipped up her chin. “Sure. I’ve ridden.”
Once.
Probably not a good idea to tell him that the one horse she’d ridden in her life had bucked her off. She’d landed smack dab in the middle of a mud puddle and cracked her tailbone. Guess who’d had to walk around with an inflated donut for the rest of summer camp? Her gaze darted toward the horses. They were huge. Bulky. Unpredictable. A sudden case of heartburn nearly gagged her. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“I guess they could use a ride. Just a quick one. Up the ridge and back.” Bryce swiped his hands down the sides of his worn jeans, and she couldn’t help but notice how perfectly they fit his sturdy form.

Look up
, she commanded herself,
before he catches you checking out his body
. By the time her eyes found his, she knew it was too late.

The beginnings of a smile softened his jaw. “You can ride Buttercup.” He strode to the other horse, a grayish Appaloosa mottled with brown spots. Stray whiskers sprouted around the mare’s mouth like an old man’s beard. She seemed content to stand statue-still and stare outside. Her tail swooshed and scattered a colony of flies.

“She’s still young, but she’ll do okay.” He swept his hand down her mane and patted her withers.

Buttercup snorted and nuzzled his shoulder, as if begging for another gentle touch.

The smile that altered Bryce’s face tempted her to cozy up next to him, too. He had the best smile—straight white teeth and those curved, skilled lips…

“What’d she send for breakfast?” Bryce asked, looking over at the picnic basket.

“An assortment of yummy things.” Grateful for a much needed distraction, she walked over to the basket and picked it up. Elsie’s “to go” breakfast looked more like a five-star buffet spread, but nerves already filled her stomach to the point of slight discomfort. There’d be no room for anything else as long as she was with Bryce.

“Here.” He tossed her a canvas bag with a long strap. “Pack it all in the saddlebag. We’ll eat at the top.”

“Sounds good.” She strained her throat to keep her voice even and professional. She was a professional, and this was a business meeting, not a romantic picnic on the top of a mountain. That would be a date.

And she could not go on a date with Bryce Walker.

While she packed the food, Bryce readied Buttercup. She caught sight of his strong arms, hoisting and fastening down the saddle, right as he looked over. Great. He was going to think she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.

“All finished?” He approached and held out his hands.

“Yep.” She placed the bag in his grasp, taking extra care not to let her skin graze his, then drifted toward Buttercup in order to maintain a healthy distance between them.

“I’ll lead on Hooligan.” He patted the brown horse’s rump. “Buttercup usually follows him around. Should be an easy ride.”

Right. Sure. Easy.
She examined the worn leather saddle while Bryce hopped onto Hooligan’s back like Evel Knievel mounting a motorcycle.

Show off.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Ready?”

Her gaze shifted back to the saddle. How was she supposed to get on that thing? “Sure. Yeah. I’m ready.” She hoisted her foot into the stirrup and gripped the saddle horn, but her hand slipped. “Whoa.” The stirrup trapped her foot. She hopped to maintain her balance, tugging on her knee in an attempt to free her boot. It must’ve looked like some crazy Yoga move.

“Need some help?” Clearly enjoying her predicament, Bryce dismounted.

“No. I’m fine.” A couple more hops, then she clawed her way up on that saddle before he could touch her. “There. See?” Perspiration stung her forehead. “I’m good.” She pasted on a smile, but a jolt of fear bolted her legs down around Buttercup’s large middle. She was so high, so out of control. Gripping the saddle horn, she tried not to look down. Didn’t they say that horses could sense things? Like danger? And a change in the weather? And extreme terror? She breathed deeply but the mountains didn’t have nearly enough oxygen.
Hold it together.

As if sensing her hesitation, Bryce placed the reins in her hands.

His touch
zing
ed through her.
Perfect.
Just what she needed when she was supposed to be concentrating.

His hand closed around hers and made her spine go limp.

“Hold ’em loose. She’ll do most of the work.” Still watching her, he backed away.

“Got it.” Somehow she formed her lips into another convincing smile, but the manufactured confidence didn’t reach deep inside. The whole summer camp incident was apparently still too fresh.

“Don’t worry. We’ll take it easy.” He jammed his foot into Hooligan’s stirrup and swung his leg over like it was nothing. “All right, Hoolie, let’s go.” He clicked his tongue and glanced back.

Buttercup didn’t budge. So much for following Hooligan around.

“Nudge her with your heels.”

She eased her heels into the horse’s ribs. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go.”

Nothing.

“Buttercup. Go.” She punctuated the command with a sharper clip of her heels.

With an annoyed whinny, Buttercup toddled forward, her hooves clomping the packed dirt in a granny’s rhythm.

“Are you sure she’s young?” Because she moved like her hips were inflamed.

“I’m sure. Sometimes she gets stiff. I rescued her from a shady breeder out near Carbondale,” he answered, wielding the reins like a pro.

Of course he rescued animals. Just when she thought he couldn’t get any more amazing…

Buttercup ambled after Hooligan out of the stables, through an aspen grove, and up to a narrow, rutted road at the back of the lodge.

Avery held the reins in both hands, somehow still maintaining a healthy grip on the saddle horn. Her body rocked with Buttercup’s lazy swagger.
Okay. I can do this.
Like Bryce had said, Buttercup would do most of the work. She just had to focus on not falling off. And on that other thing she was supposed to do. Close the deal.