Caught Up in a Cowboy, page 8
“I have a feeling you don’t screw up very often. It sure seems to me like you’ve got this whole ‘mom’ thing pretty well figured out.”
“That’s nice of you to say. But I think you’ve got this whole ‘millionaire superstar hockey player’ life pretty well figured out too. You drive a fancy car, and I imagine that you live in a gorgeous house. I’ve seen what you’ve done for your family’s ranch and for the town. It doesn’t seem like life is too rough for you.”
He shrugged. “I’m not saying my life isn’t good. You know I dreamed of playing professional hockey since I put on my first pair of skates, and I’m lucky I get to do what I love every day and get paid well to do it. But this life isn’t going to last forever. And sometimes I think about what I gave up in order to follow my dreams. Who I gave up.”
They pulled into the driveway of Rivers Gulch. He stopped the truck in front of the house but didn’t get out.
Instead, he turned to face her and stretched his arm out along the back of the seat. “I was an idiot. A stupid teenage kid who was only thinking about himself. I got caught up in being a big shot hero, but I didn’t act heroic. I acted selfish, and I’m sorry. I should have tried harder to make us work, should have given you a chance to be part of my new life. That one decision has always haunted me, and I’ve often wondered how things could have been if I hadn’t broken things off with you that summer. If I’d only had you come with me and tried to make a place for you in my world.”
Instead of choosing your career over me and breaking my heart.
The words were there, on the tip of her tongue, ready to be spewed with the bitterness and anger that usually hit her when she thought about it. But tonight she didn’t want to feel angry and sour. All night she’d been thinking about forgiveness and letting that resentment go.
Her dad liked to tell her that things happen for a reason. She didn’t always have to know the reason, and a lot of times the reason may never be clear, but it’s there just the same.
And her reason was lying on the seat next to her. She looked down at her son, who was still sound asleep, his body curled against her, his breathing even.
She let out a small sigh. “I was a stupid teenager too. And I made a few dumb decisions myself, but they resulted in the best thing that’s ever happened to me. If all of that old stuff hadn’t happened the way it did, I wouldn’t have Max.”
He smiled down at the boy. Not a phony smile like some of the guys who’d tried to ask her out gave her son, but a real smile that told her Rock really did care about Max. “I know. I think about that sometimes too. And I don’t want to bring up all the old hurts of the past, beyond the point of telling you that I’m sorry. I can’t take back what I did or change what happened back then. But I can change what I do today and tomorrow. I’m tired of fighting with you, of being enemies, I want to be your friend, if nothing else.”
He picked up a loose strand of her hair and twisted it between his fingers. “You were the best part of my life, and for the past eight years, I feel like a piece of me has been missing. And that piece is you. I want you back in my life, Q.”
“I don’t know what to say.” She didn’t know how to even process what he was saying or why her body had responded with warmth at hearing him use the old nickname.
“I know I hurt you, but damn it, I’m tired of us being enemies. I don’t want to push, but I want you back. And I know that I’m gonna catch hell from Ham and your brother, but I’m willing to risk it.” He offered her a grin and a quick wink. “How about we start with something easy, like you let me take you out to dinner? Tomorrow night?”
Her heart lifted at his offer, but she shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t.”
Chapter 7
Rock reared back, his grin falling and hurt filling his eyes. “I understand.”
Quinn reached out her hand and rested it on his outstretched arm, surprised at the surge of heat that shot through her veins at simply touching him. “I want to. I’m tired of us being enemies too. When I said I can’t, I didn’t mean that I can’t ever. I just meant that I can’t tomorrow night. I have a thing at Max’s school.”
His smile returned. “Oh. Yeah. No problem. What I meant to say was I’d like to take you to dinner. What night would be good for you?”
“I can’t do tomorrow, but I can do the night after. Will that be okay?”
He nodded. “That would be perfect.”
“It’s a da—” She’d started to say it’s a date, but it wasn’t really a date. It was just dinner. Between two old friends. “It’s a plan,” she said instead.
“Do I get to come to dinner?” a sleepy voice asked as Max blinked his eyes awake.
Quinn laughed. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was. I just woke up and heard you talking about going out to dinner.” His eyes were fluttering closed again, and he let out a yawn.
“Well, you don’t get to come along to this one. Maybe next time.” She smiled, thinking how he likely wouldn’t remember this conversation in the morning. “You want me to carry you in?”
He shook his head. “No. Rock.”
Her eyes widened. That was interesting. Max didn’t usually warm up to people so quickly. Maybe he was comfortable around Rock because he was around his brothers so often. She glanced up at Rock, offering him a small shrug.
“Sure. I’ll carry you in. And I’d love to do something with your mom and you later this week. Maybe I could take you guys ice skating? Would you like that?”
“Mmm-hmm,” Max muttered as Rock picked him up and carried him toward the house.
Quinn followed, her stomach twisting in confusion. Something about this scenario felt so achingly right. Like this was how it was supposed to be all along.
Yet she knew this wasn’t how it was and wasn’t how it was going to be.
The three of them weren’t going to be a family.
Rock hadn’t asked her to marry him. He hadn’t even said he wanted to be romantically involved. He’d said he wanted to start fresh and be friends—that he’d missed her friendship.
But still, what about that kiss?
And did she even want to be more than friends?
He was home, and everything seemed so great, but he was going back to Denver as soon as his coach cleared him to play again.
That thought sent spirals of misery plummeting through her already dizzy stomach, and she stumbled up the stairs, her feet tripping on the last porch step. She reached out instinctively, and Rock shifted Max’s weight to one side and grabbed her arm, holding her steady as she regained her balance.
“Whoa. You okay there?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Just missed the step in the dark.” The porch lights were plenty bright, but it was easier to blame the night than admit she was thinking about him. She reached for the front door and held it open for him.
“Was that mint chocolate chip spiked with Bailey’s? Is that why it’s your favorite?” he teased as he passed in front of her and headed down the hall toward Max’s room.
Ha. Her ice cream had been alcohol-free but dang if she didn’t feel like she could use a stiff drink right about now.
They didn’t bother to turn any house lights on. There was enough illumination coming through the windows of the house to navigate their way to Max’s room, where she pulled back the covers, then turned and slipped off his sneakers and socks while Rock held him. She normally wouldn’t let him go to bed without brushing his teeth, but it didn’t seem worth waking him up to do it tonight. She’d just make him brush twice as long in the morning.
Rock laid him down, and she pulled the covers over him as he snuggled into the pillow.
She brushed his hair back and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead, then followed Rock out of the room, turning to pull the door most of the way closed behind her.
Turning back, she ran into the solid mass of Rock, who had stopped in the hallway.
He reached out to steady her again, but this time he slipped an arm around her waist as she raised a hand to his chest. She heard his soft chuckle, and it sent a little shiver racing down her spine.
A silvery patch of moonlight fell onto the floor behind him, but his face was shadowed as he leaned toward her. “That’s the second time you’ve stumbled tonight. I don’t remember you being this klutzy before.” His voice was low, a husky whisper.
“I’m not usually klutzy at all. It’s just when I’m around you.”
“I make you stumble?”
She gazed up at him, knowing how close she was, her hand flat on his chest, knowing she should step back but not wanting to pull out of the circle of his arms. “You make me dizzy. Like my head is spinning.”
“Do you need me to hold you up?”
Did she? Did she need him at all?
She wasn’t sure. But she knew that she wanted him.
Wanted him like a starving animal wanted food.
“I’m not sure what I need,” she said, her words coming out breathier than she’d meant them to.
He dipped his head, his lips next to her ear, his low voice its own seduction. “I don’t think I knew what I needed until now. I’ve missed you, Quinn.”
She let out the softest sigh, her eyelids fluttering closed. The scruff of his whiskers grazed her cheek, the barest touch heating her skin.
His breath caressed her neck, causing her to soften. Like a golden pat of butter on a hot biscuit, she melted against him, her resolve thawing as the molten heat of his body drew closer to hers.
“Have you missed me?” he whispered. “Do you ever think about me? About us?”
She swallowed at the emotion suddenly burning her throat. “I used to. All of the time. But it hurt too much. I had to stop—had to put you out of my mind.” She wanted to pull away, to stop this torture, but she couldn’t.
It was like she was suspended in time, locked in his arms, paralyzed by the delicious torment of having him near, of his lips so close to her skin, whispering the words she’d waited so long to hear.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I hurt you. I would take it back if I could. I swear I would.”
She believed him. Something about the dimly lit hallway, the way his hands gripped her waist, the break in his voice that took her back to the moments spent with the teenage version of this man. The break that told her he had been stripped bare, that he was speaking the truth, giving her the most honest version of himself.
But they weren’t teenagers anymore, weren’t kids who could ignore everything except their own reckless impulses.
And, God help her, she was feeling reckless, like nothing else mattered in the world except the feel of Rock’s hands on her body and the brush of his lips on her skin.
Need and desire coursed through her, and all she wanted, craved, yearned for, was his touch.
She swiveled her head, nuzzling her cheek into his soft hair. Her fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, gripping the folds in tight fists. Her mind swirled with words she wanted to say, actions she wanted to take, and she opened her mouth to speak.
But in the back of her mind, she registered the familiar sound of the low creak that signaled her father’s bedroom door opening, and reality crashed back in.
She opened her hands, releasing Rock’s shirt, and clasped her fingers together against her chest. She took a quick step back, fighting to catch her breath—and her grip on the situation.
“Everything all right out here?” Ham asked. “I thought I heard something. That you, Rockford?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’re fine, Dad.” She swallowed, hearing the tremble in her voice and hoping her dad hadn’t picked up on it. “We were just putting Max to bed.”
He grunted. “Seems pretty late for visitors. Some of us have to get up for work in the morning.”
Oh brother. She let out a frustrated breath. “It’s not that late, Dad. It’s not even ten o’clock.” He probably hadn’t even been asleep. He usually stayed up through the evening news. It was more likely he’d heard Rock’s pickup pull in and was checking to see why he was still there.
“I was just leaving,” Rock said, tipping his chin toward her and offering her a grin. “Good night, sir.”
She followed him to the front door, where he stopped in the doorway and turned back to her, shaking his head. “Man, being here brings back so many memories. That felt just like when we were teenagers, and your dad caught me trying to kiss you and ran me out of the house.”
“Were you trying to kiss me?” She tilted her head, amazed at her own boldness.
He offered her a flirty grin. “Then or now?”
“Now.”
“Yeah, I guess. I was hoping to get around to it anyway.”
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. How could this guy always charm a grin out of her?
“But you already agreed to go out to dinner with me, so I don’t want to push my luck.”
Her grin faltered for a second, and the realization that she was disappointed he wasn’t going to kiss her now surprised her.
He must have noticed, because his smile widened, and he leaned down and dropped a quick kiss on her lips, just the softest of touches, but enough to send a battalion of butterflies swirling through her stomach.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, then let the screen door shut softly behind him.
* * *
The next day dragged by for Rock. All he could think of was Quinn and taking her out to dinner the following night.
He was up early and had gone for a run, then spent a few hours lifting and going through dry drills. The concussion protocol allowed him to continue to work out, and his body had been itching to get back in the gym.
But since the closest gym was miles away, the old weight bench and barbells they’d used growing up would have to do. That, and helping his brothers out with chores around the farm. He’d hauled bales and mucked out stalls and spent hours running fence.
Vivi cajoled him into spending a few hours inside after lunch, bribing him with homemade cookies if he would watch a movie with her.
He was canny enough to know what she was doing, but he was also smart enough to know that his body, and his head, needed the rest. As an athlete, he was pretty in tune to his body and what it took to keep him in top physical health. Not that he didn’t occasionally indulge in something decadent, but for the most part, he watched his diet and tried to eat healthy.
He could feel himself getting better, feel the muscles healing and getting stronger.
The run this morning had felt good—good to be using his body. But it didn’t matter how strong he got, his mom would never stop worrying about him. He was pretty sure that’s why she’d talked him into hanging out with her.
He wasn’t sure how she’d talked him into watching the romantic comedy.
He knew he needed to take care of himself, to let his body rest, and to heal. But he hated this feeling. He was the Rock—the one who was strong, the big brother, the eldest son, the dependable teammate. He was the one who got things done, who moved the puck, who scored the goals, and who was there for his mom and his brothers. He wasn’t the one who needed to be taken care of. That was his job—to take care of everyone else.
* * *
His eyes blinked open, and he stretched his arms over his head and let out a yawn.
How long had he been asleep? He wasn’t sure, but he looked over and saw his mother staring at him intently. “Hey, Mom.”
Her eyes softened around the edges, and a small smile curved the corners of her lips. “I love you, Son.”
“I love you too.” He raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”
Vivienne James was a tough-as-nails woman who had impeccable aim with a flyswatter or a wooden spoon when her boys stepped out of line, but also had the deepest capacity for love and had always been generous with praise and words of encouragement for all of her sons.
Sometimes he wondered if his mom was trying to give them double the love, to somehow make up for the loss of their dad. If so, she was succeeding.
Vivi’s heart was bigger than the whole state of Colorado, and when she hugged a person, they felt it to their very soul. Neither he, nor his brothers, ever doubted the depth to which they were loved.
Even though Vivi often told him that she loved him, this felt different. Like there was a little more emotion behind it. Like something was going on.
Uh-oh. What if she were sick? Or there was something wrong with one of his brothers.
“Nothing’s going on,” she said, but the concerned look in her eyes betrayed her. She patted his leg. “I’m just worried about you.”
Oh. Someone was sick. But it wasn’t her or his brothers. She was worried about him.
He huffed out his breath. “I’m fine, Ma. Quit fussing over me.”
She held up her hands. “Okay. It’s just that I can’t remember the last time I saw you fall asleep during a movie.”
“Yeah. It was such a riveting plot.”
She nudged his leg and let out an easy chuckle. “Hey now. That’s one of my favorites. The ending gets me every time.” Her voice took on a more serious tone. “A concussion is nothing to mess around with. I just want you to take care of yourself.”
“I am.”
“Speaking of messing around—what’s going on with you and Quinn?”
Smooth. Real smooth.
“Nothing. What do you mean?” He tried for wide-eyed innocence, but his mom wasn’t buying it—not that she ever did.
“I heard you’re taking her out to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Dang. Colt has a big mouth.” He knew he shouldn’t have spilled the details to his little brother.
“It wasn’t Colt who told me. It was Quinn.”
