Unbridled (Unlikely Lovers) (4 page)

If her concentration hadn’t already been broken,
Miranda would’ve lost it then. Nigel’s screams nearly always made her crack up, and she found it impossible to concentrate on her riding while laughing her head off. At least he was in a better mood now. Undaunted, she tried it again.

“Yes, Miranda
!” he yelled ecstatically. “Yes, yes, yes!” As she and Kira cruised by in a perfect frame, Nigel shook his fists in the air and stomped his feet. “Don’t stop, Miranda! Keep on like that.” He heaved a satisfied sigh. “Oh,
yeah
…”

Grinning
broadly, she crossed the diagonal, still going strong, and thinking that sex with Nigel might not be so bad after all. If you ever
did
get it right, he would certainly let you know.

Chapter 4

After her lesson, Miranda let Kira walk for about fifteen minutes before heading back to the barn. Travis was still there, nailing shoes on a tall chestnut mare while Nigel furiously raked the barn aisle. Neither of them said a word while she unsaddled Kira and remained silent as she led the sweaty mare out to the wash stall for a quick sponge bath.

The
same stony silence prevailed upon her return, and though she suspected that Nigel was itching to discuss that morning’s events, so far, he wasn’t talking. Having mulled over the scene with his young student, Miranda had some definite ideas about what he might have done differently, but she wasn’t about to offer them unless he asked. Clipping the cross ties to Kira’s halter, she covered the mare with a light fleece blanket, packed up her gear, and carried it all out to the truck.

Nigel rounded on
her the moment she returned. “Could I have handled that better?”

“Yes, you could,
” she replied, pleased that he’d finally asked. “All you had to do was ask her why she was behaving so strangely—without screaming.”

“
She should have said something,” he grumbled. “If I’d known she was worried about her grandmother, I wouldn’t have yelled at her.”

“
She could have, but women usually don’t volunteer that kind of information. Men will tell you up front when they feel like shit. You have to
ask
a woman, and you have to ask her nicely.”

He shook his head
. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“It
’s not that hard, Nigel. A simple
Are you okay?
will usually do it. Not,
What the hell’s the matter with you?”

“I guess so.
” He blew out an exasperated breath. “It’s these silly young girls, Miranda. I don’t deal well with them.”

“No shit
,” she said dryly. “You see yourself as their instructor, but they see you as their ticket to equestrian stardom. You’re their hero, Nigel, and when your hero screams at you…well, let’s just say it’s not a good thing, especially for a young girl.”

She glanced at
Travis, who had stopped hammering and appeared to be listening.

“
Now, me, I mostly laugh when you yell. You’ve never made me cry and I doubt you ever will. I’m too old to compete in the Olympics, but the young ones still have the dream, and it means more to them. Some days they can take the yelling and screaming because they know you can teach them what they need to know, and some days they can’t. It’s up to you to know the difference.”

He shook his head.
“I can’t do that.”

“Then you
’ll have to stick to teaching older women and leave the young ones to someone else.”

“There
’s nothing wrong with older women,” Travis chimed in. “They give really good hugs.”

Miranda chuckled.
“Yeah, right, Travis. Those young ones would probably cry when you hit them with your nippers.”

His jaw dropped.
“I didn’t hit you, did I?”

“No
,” she admitted. “But you squeezed me pretty hard. I probably have nipper marks on my back.”

“Let me see
.” He put down his hammer and walked toward her, a funny little half-smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “Turn around.”

“Oh, Travis,
I was kidding and you know it.” Laughing, she held up both hands to fend him off. “I’m sure you didn’t leave a mark.”

Nigel
snickered. “Maybe he wants to kiss it and make it better.”

The mere
thought of Travis kissing her on the back—or anywhere else—sent a quiver of anticipation running down her spine. Too bad he hadn’t been the one to suggest it.

Giving herself a mental shake, s
he nodded at Nigel. “That’s another thing men do. They always want to fix things. Sometimes a woman simply needs to talk about what’s bothering her and all the man has to do is listen. Most of the time, she already knows what she needs to do. She’s just reluctant to go through with it. Pointing out the obvious solution makes her seem stupid.”

“L
et me get this straight,” Nigel said. “I have to ask what’s wrong—nicely, of course—listen to the problem, and then
not
try to fix it? That doesn’t make sense.”

“
I never said it made sense,” she said patiently. “But if you’re dealing with women, it’s something you need to remember.”

He shrugged and went back to raking.
“If you say so.”

Miranda
rolled her eyes and went over to get Kira. She’d snapped a lead rope to the mare’s halter and was unhooking the cross-tie when she felt a hand pressed between her shoulder blades.

“No nipper marks,” Travis said,
giving her a gentle massage. He seemed perkier than he’d been earlier, his funny little smile now a full-blown grin. “I figured you secretly wanted to know that.”

“Thanks, Travis
.” Trying to ignore the flood of goose bumps racing over her skin, she resisted the urge to lean back against his hand. “I’m sure I would’ve lost sleep over it.”

Laughing, he
waved goodbye. “See you next week.”

Although s
uch a simple touch rarely affected her, she was still tingling as she loaded up her mare and went home. She probably
would
lose a little sleep that night, and it certainly wouldn’t be from a sore back. Travis had the power to keep her awake all by himself.

* * * *

Travis knew he’d set a dangerous precedent. One hug—hell, one
touch—
would lead to another and another and before he knew it, he’d be kissing her. Then she’d probably slap the shit out of him, and she’d be perfectly justified in doing so.

He finished up at Nigel’s and headed on to the next horse on his list, stopping for lunch along the way. He
gave the cashier at the drive-thru a big smile, wondering if she would condemn him for lusting after a married woman. His family certainly would. He’d never hear the end of it, and his father would probably disown him.

His
cousin might understand, though. There was something different about Alan John. A cousin on his mother’s side, the same taboos hadn’t been drummed into him from birth. To hear him tell it, Alan had yet to find a woman who could stand as much sex as he craved, and he’d supposedly worn out more women than most men ever dated. Somewhere along the line, he’d probably fucked a married woman.
Or two, or three…
He might even have lined them up and done one after the other.

Travis didn’t have that problem.
With fairly normal sexual appetites and an upbringing that kept him from being indiscriminate, having an adulterous affair was completely out of character for him. Why, then, did he want Miranda so badly?

Miranda’s husband was the farthest thing from his mind
when she’d made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Then her comment about nipper marks had given him another excuse to get his hands on her. Too bad her reaction wasn’t all he’d hoped for. Instead of moaning with pleasure, she’d simply loaded up her horse and gone home.

While
Travis had no firm commitment to Shelley, Miranda had vowed to love, honor, and cherish another man—an incredibly lucky man, particularly in light of the fact that Travis respected those vows. Otherwise, he’d have been doing his best to talk her into having an affair with him.

No. An affair would never be enough.
He wanted more than that. He wanted a home and a family. A woman he could love openly, without having to sneak around behind her husband’s back. Unfortunately, having those things also meant he couldn’t have Miranda.

Though h
e hated to admit it, maybe he
did
need to talk to Alan.

* * * *

Alan’s advice was simple. “Don’t do it. You’ll regret it every day for the rest of your life.”

After his last
job of the day, Travis stopped by the health food store his cousin managed, all set to hear that he should flout convention and go after Miranda, no holds barred. He certainly hadn’t expected Alan, of all people, to sit him down at one of the tables in the deli and tell him to forget about her.

“So y
ou’ve done it, then?” Travis asked. “Had an affair with a married woman?”

Alan nodded, raking a hand through his disheveled locks. “More than once, and I’ve felt guilty ever since.”

“Didn’t stop you from doing it the second time, though, did it?”

“Actually,
that second time was the cure.” Alan didn’t look cured. In fact, he looked about as miserable as Travis felt—hollow-eyed, unshaven, and thinner than Travis remembered. “I’m trying to give it up.”

“Give what up?”

“Sex.” Alan’s hand shook slightly as he reached for his cup. “I’m trying to prove to myself that I’m not addicted.”

“How long has it been?”

“Six weeks,” he replied. “I’m doing okay, I think.” He paused, frowning. “Of course, not having a girlfriend at the moment helps quite a bit.”

Finding women had never been Alan’s problem.
With tousled curls and a face like a young Russell Crowe, he drew them like flies, and those that weren’t attracted by his looks often took pity on his desperate need for sex. Unfortunately, he also tended to drive them crazy after a few months. Travis was pretty sure he’d
never sent anyone to the loony bin, but he wasn’t looking for a pity fuck, either. Not from Miranda or anyone else.

“It’s not
so much the sex as it is the physical contact,” Alan went on. “I need it so badly.” He let out a weary sigh. “Too bad no one else does.”

The standard
“Don’t worry. You’ll find the perfect woman someday” admonition probably wouldn’t help Alan feel any better at all. Travis doubted there was a woman alive who could put up with him for more than six months, let alone a lifetime. “Maybe if you tried pacing yourself a little…”

Alan
cut him off with a wave of his hand. “I
have
tried, and it doesn’t work.” He took a sip of his tea. “But you didn’t come here to talk about my problems. So you’ve fallen for a married woman, have you?” He shook his head, chuckling. “Your old man will have a shit fit.”

“Tell me about it,” Travis muttered.

“Still, you
are
thirty-six years old,” Alan reminded him. “Old enough to make your own decisions.”

“Old enough
to know better. And I do. I was hoping you could give me some insight.”

“I did.
Don’t do it. You’ll be sorry.” He paused, frowning. “You know, most support groups recommend having someone to call when you’re about to fall off the wagon. What you need is a buddy to keep you from doing something stupid.”

“Want to be my buddy?”

Alan snorted a laugh. “I’m not sure I’d be the best choice. Maybe you should ask Stuart.”

“Yeah, right. He’s been walking around in a daze ever since his divorce.” Travis’s older brother
had been happily married until his wife’s bariatric surgery. Unfortunately, as her weight went down, her need for boyfriends had skyrocketed. “I doubt if I could spill my guts to him and not have the story leak out to the rest of the family. The whole adultery thing is a pretty sore spot with him—and you know my father’s opinion on the subject. Sure you can’t do it?”

Alan shrugged, giving Travis a weak smile.
“I can see your point about Stuart, but with my history, I might end up doing the deed myself.”

Al
though Travis knew Alan was joking, his comment kindled a flame of—what? Jealousy? Possessiveness? He wasn’t sure, but it irked him. Nonetheless, he went along with the jest. “Over my dead body. Besides, I thought you were trying to give it up.”

“I am, but temptation
often strikes when we’re at our weakest—like it did with you.” He shook his head. “You and a married woman. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t seen it yet
—and maybe you never will. I’m trying to be strong, but you know how it is.”

“Oh, God, yes.”
Shuddering, Alan cupped his hands around his mug of tea as though craving its warmth. “This stuff is hot, sweet, and soothing—it’s a chamomile blend—but I’d much rather be eating pussy.”

Travis wanted to laugh, but for once, he was too much in sympathy with Alan to muster a chuckle. “Have you tried chocolate? I hear it’s supposed to have the
same effect as an orgasm.”

“That might work if I didn’t already know sex was a helluva lot better than chocolate.”

Travis got to his feet and gripped his cousin’s shoulder. “Hang in there, Alan. We’ll get through this somehow. We’re supposed to be the stronger sex, remember?”

Alan shook his head
, his gray eyes as bleak as a winter sky. “That’s a fallacy and you know it. They’re the strong ones. They’ve got what we want and half the time they laugh at us. Compared to them, we’re a bunch of pathetic fools.”