Rocky Mountain House, present day
Instead of his father, Trevor’s mom met him at the barns at the bleary-eyed hour just shy of five a.m. Her expression said it all.
“He’s sick, isn’t he?” Trevor asked, looping Tigger’s reins around the post while he talked.
Kate nodded. “He was looking forward to going, but he can’t. Something threw him off last night, whether it was the food, or the excitement.”
“Family dinners aren’t that thrilling, Mom.” Trevor was disappointed. Not only that he’d miss the chance to talk to his dad about a few pointed items, but he’d been looking forward to a day with just the two of them a surprising amount. “Tell him we can wait. We don’t have to move the cattle to new fields for a couple weeks, so if he’s feeling better in a few days, we’ll go then.”
His mom offered him a beaming smile. “He’ll be happy to hear that. Now, can I entice you into taking some fresh-baked muffins with you before you go?”
“Twist my arm.”
His mom forced a half dozen on him. Once they were out of the yard, he let Tigger take her head, peeling back the paper wrappers and enjoying the warm buttery muffins as the sun inched its way skyward to paint the fields with a gentle light.
Too many jobs called his name to laze about all morning and simply ride, but he enjoyed the interlude, putting Tigger back in her stall in the barn behind Rafe and Jesse’s place, a final pat to her rump before focusing on work.
He and his brothers met a dozen times over the day as they worked. At one point he passed his dad going the opposite direction, albeit in the tractor. Randy waved but didn’t stop.
His dad looked green around the gills. Stubborn man. Couldn’t even let himself be sick for a full twenty-four hours.
Trevor packed it in early since he’d started before five. By the time he grabbed a shower and headed into town in the hopes of catching Becky before she started walking, it was still early afternoon.
He pulled to a stop outside the rental shocked to see she’d beat him home.
Damn stubborn woman.
Once again Becky was in a high place, although clearly not happy about it. She stood on a tall ladder, her jawline tight as she focused intently on the window in front of her. She had a scraper in one hand, and a spray bottle of something hanging off the top of the ladder as she worked on the exterior seals.
He approached as cautiously as possible, driving into the yard and getting out of the truck quietly, but once again he was stuck in the position of saying nothing until she noticed him because he didn’t want her to fall. They’d been lucky that first time when he’d spooked her off the roof. He wasn’t willing to risk it happening again and have her hurt.
Instead he waited, ready to move in an instant, but in the meantime, he enjoyed the show. The late-spring day had warmed up enough that with the heat reflecting off the white-board siding, she’d stripped to nothing but a T-shirt and shorts. Her arms were smooth and muscular. Strong enough for the task she was doing without losing her feminine curves.
And those legs. She was shorter than him, but she was all legs. Yeah, he wasn’t sad to have to watch for a minute or two.
He breathed a sigh of relief nearly as loud as hers when she finally climbed down and her feet hit the ground.
“Head’s up. I’m here,” he warned.
“Of course, you’re there,” Becky replied without missing a beat. “That’s what stalkers do. They lurk in the shadows, watching.” She tilted her head to the side and examined him more closely. “Dare I ask what you’re doing?”
“I came to give you a hand.”
“That much I figured. The Good Neighbour manual again.”
“It’s amazing how often it has relevant information for us.”
She went to get the ladder but he anticipated her, grabbing hold and taking it down.
“Face it, Trevor, you’re not being neighbourly, you’re nosy.”
He couldn’t even pretend to be shocked. “Well, that too.”
Becky shook her head. “I meant, what are you doing here at this time of day?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing. I started early.”
“The shop closed at two. Hope says nobody comes shopping the afternoon the schools have early dismissal, and she keeps consistent hours all through the summer because it’s easier.”
A coincidence he was happy to use to their benefit. “Perfect timing, then.”
She followed him to the shed where he hung the ladder along the sidewall. “You’re sticking around?”
“Steve suggested I could help you with that list your landlord wanted.” He pointed above their heads. “Like checking the caulking around the windows.”
“Which I’ve got nicely in hand, thank you.”
“Never said you didn’t, but some jobs go faster with two people.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you dare get in trouble with your family, hanging out helping me while you’re supposed to be doing stuff for them.”
That was the last thing he was worried about. “It’s my time. I can spend it how I choose.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay with me, I guess.”
She rambled off a list of things she planned on checking, and Trevor listened, but he also thoroughly enjoyed a chance to keep looking her over.
She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail, and the dark length poured down behind her like a soft waterfall his fingers itched to dip into. Her lips were a deep red, soft and plump, and he bet if he bit softly on the plump lower one, he could make her moan.
Trevor snapped his gaze back up to meet hers, forcing aside his distracting but very entertaining ideas for a moment.
He could tell what projects she was more enthusiastic about, and which ones she was dreading by her face. Although not really her face, but her eyes.
When she spoke, her eyes dipping toward the ground, he knew she was either worried or as excited as he was about dishwashing. At other moments, her face would light up and glow.
It was like watching a wild spring storm through a window, with all the changing moods that entailed.
“What’s the main goal for tonight?” he asked.
Becky paused. “I have to find what needs fixing, and we should talk about what you think I need to learn, but I really want to empty the living room so I have somewhere other than the kitchen to sit.”
“Makes sense to me. Let’s clean it out. Garbage first?”
She nodded. “I’ve got a couple boxes I can tuck aside for the stuff that should be saved or given away, but most of it can be burned. Part of the packrat collection.”
They went to work, the first loads filling up fast as Becky tipped a towering stack of newspapers and magazines into her box, and he did the same. She was efficient and direct in all her motions. No wasted time, no wasted energy, but always mesmerizing.
Until she zigged and he zagged when they met in the middle of the hallway, her box piled too high.
He caught the top item before it could topple to the ground, reaching underneath to catch the load. His knuckles brushed the sides of her body as she pulled away, and she took a little breath, seemingly as aware of him as he was of her.
“How about I’ll wait at the door, and you bring the boxes there,” he suggested. “We’ll be able to move a lot faster.”
“Good idea.”
They moved faster, but it still gave him plenty of time to enjoy watching her both coming and going, her trips taking slightly longer to gather the bits and pieces into the boxes than for him to march to the burn pile and dump the contents.
He leaned against the doorframe and waited for her to come around the corner, hips swaying as she stepped. The frayed edges at the bottom of her shorts caressed her thighs. Trevor’s gaze dropped happily along smooth limbs all the way to her bare feet as she padded down the hall. Bare toes he wanted to nibble on.
He took the box she passed him then paused long enough for her to turn away. This time he got to enjoy watching her sweet heart-shaped ass waving at him like a flag. With her T-shirt tucked in neatly at the waist, the curve of her breast would appear for a second before she’d turn the corner and disappear from sight.
He had his short journey to and from the burn pit to wait in anticipation for the next enticing visual tease.
Trevor strode through the door to find Becky standing on a small stool with old paint cans in her hands, lifting them toward a shelf in the hall. Only they must have been heavy, and with her hands full, it was impossible for her to keep her balance.
He rushed forward, matching his hands over hers and steadying the buckets, suddenly aware of their proximity. Of the way her ass rested back against his groin, and how the heat of her body pressed his through her thin T-shirt. The silky-smooth touch of her skin under his hands as his fingers grasped hers over the thin metal handles of the buckets.
“Are you steady?” he asked, but it came out half a breath above a growl, lust riding him hard as his cock reacted and the urge to drop the pails and kiss her senseless shot skyward.
The next second a subtle change in her body position screamed a warning. She was breathing hard, but not in a good way. Not as if she were feeling the lust that had fired his blood to maximum.
It was fear. Fear made her fingers tremble where he held her trapped—
Shit, he was such a fool.
“I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to scare you. Slip your hands out from under mine, I’ve got the pails.”
There was none of the false oh, I’m okay some other woman might have said. He loosened his grasp, and she stole away, disappearing like a ghostly wind. The final caress of her torso against his enough to remind him what he couldn’t have.
But only a bastard took what he wanted when a woman wasn’t ready. He moved quickly, placing the pails on the floor and turning to face her. “You okay?”
Becky had retreated to the other end of the hallway, arms wrapped around her, fingers clutching her upper arms tightly. She made a face. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Doesn’t matter, I still scared you.”
She nodded. Slowly she twisted to look at him, forcing a reluctant smile to her lips. “You’re a good man, Trevor Coleman. I mean that, and I sure like doing things with you. And you’ve been a big help already, in more ways than you know, but I don’t know if I’m someone you should be hanging around with.”
Now she was talking bullshit. Trevor brushed his hands on his jeans as he marched forward, moving slow enough she could escape if she needed, but she didn’t seem afraid anymore. Him grabbing her had done that. “Sounds like you’re getting ready for a goodbye, or to shove me out the door, or something.”
Becky shrugged. “Honestly? You said you liked me. I assume that means all the ways a man can like a woman, and…” Her chin trembled for a moment before she fixed him with steely gaze. “I’m an awful lot broken inside. Even though you make me feel things I never expected to feel, I won’t be a good girlfriend. You deserve somebody else.”
Trevor reached a hand up slowly, gentling his movement to keep from spooking her. “Now, maybe you need to let me decide what type of girlfriend I need.”
“I can’t give you the things a girlfriend usually gives,” Becky insisted.
“You’re right,” Trevor agreed.
Her eyes widened.
He brushed the tips of his fingers over her cheek, sliding back until he was able to stroke his thumb over the curve of her blushing skin. Moving carefully, watching for any cues to back off. Grateful when none came.
“But considering everything I’ve been taught by my brothers and cousins, it’s not about what a woman can give me that’s the bit that counts. It’s a hell of a lot more about what I can give you that matters.”
She was about to protest, those beautiful lips opening so she could explain probably in more detail why she was the worst thing ever for him, but Trevor didn’t give a damn what the details were, or what demons she was fighting—
Wait. No. He cared a hell of a lot about what was wrong, but it didn’t matter right this instant.
“I like you, Becky. You make me smile, and you make me think.” He reached out and slid his hand down her arm until his fingers linked with hers. He squeezed lightly then brought her hand toward him to rest on his chest. “You make me feel things in here that turn my brain to mush, and if that goes along with the laughter we’ve already proved we know how to do? Let’s get to know each other, and we can focus on things we can do instead of the things we can’t.”
Her eyes were sparkling, not with delight this time, but with a dash of emotion and moisture he was pretty sure she didn’t want him to mention.
“As long as you don’t feel obligated,” she began.
“Ha, it doesn’t say anything in the Good Neighbour manual about doing things out of obligation. It says you do them because you want to, and that’s pretty much where I’m at.”
He slipped his hand lower to curl his fingers under her chin and rub his thumb lightly over those lips that he’d been craving ever since the first day. A craving he had every intention of finally satisfying, if he could convince her to say he could.
“I’m not trying to push you too hard, but I sure would like to kiss you. While we’re being honest, and all that.”
She swallowed hard, her tongue slipping out for an instant as she moistened her lips. Her tongue darted against his thumb, and another shock rolled through him, making him hard. Making him ache.
“Just a kiss,” he teased softly. “If you’d like.”
Instead of answering with words, Becky’s fingers moved. From where they rested against his chest she slid them upward slowly, oh so slowly, until her hand rested at the back of his neck. Her fingers gently curled around him then tentatively tugged him forward.
Trevor’s heart pounded like he’d been going full speed all day, but he waited, watching closely. Moving the instant she applied the barest pressure to his neck, bringing him toward her lips.
She tilted her head slightly, and he copied her, and a moment later they made contact, the sweet warm air of her breath striking first, sending the taste of her into his mouth as he inhaled the split second before their lips met.
He was a kid again, when every touch from the girl he was sweet on was enough to send his system whirling.
Oh, he’d kissed a few girls over the years, and had always enjoyed it, and it had always given him a rush, but this? Like taking a hard shot of proof whiskey.
Trevor was reeling, drunk on one taste. She tasted like innocence and sin. Becky might think she wasn’t the right woman to be his girlfriend, but she was wrong. This was what he’d been craving without knowing it.
He deepened the kiss, pleasure rattling through his system like a runaway train.
Oh, hell yeah.