Time’s up!
Tyler’s days in Rebel were almost over.
He knew that, but he couldn’t make himself leave just yet.
Not when he had Brett Sawyer himself giving him pointers and helping him on his ride. That, and he fully intended to be there on Monday when Cooper boarded that bus for Texas A&M.
And Brandy?
With each day that passed, Tyler was finding it harder and harder to remember that this was just sex. Temporary.
Because it felt more permanent than anything else in his life. More right. He found himself looking forward to the little things. Counting on them. Seeing her smile when he kissed the tip of her nose. Holding her until the crack of dawn. Listening to her off-key singing in the shower. Liking her off-key singing in the shower.
Brandy Tucker was the last woman he needed to fall in love with. She’d made it clear that she didn’t want anything beyond a physical relationship. She’d made no false promises, left no room for maybe. She was a Tucker and he was a Sawyer and while her older sister had defied the odds, Brandy had no desire to do the same.
She was all about her business. Her future.
And he couldn’t blame her. Heaven to hell, but he felt the same.
If only he could shake the crazy feelings pushing and pulling inside of him. He needed to switch them off and simply enjoy whatever time they had left together.
But damned if he didn’t want her to feel the same riot of emotion. To miss him when he climbed out of bed in the morning, to look forward to his company every night, to want to see him in a capacity that didn’t involve getting naked.
Hell, maybe she already did.
The thing was, there was no way to really know because the sex was muddying the waters. She might already like the little things as much as he did. She might like him.
Enough to thumb her nose at a one-hundred-year-old feud?
He wasn’t sure, but there was only one way to find out.
* * *
“This isn’t part of the deal.” Brandy stood in the kitchen of her bakery and fed flour into her giant mixer. “Since when do you want to know how to bake?”
“Since I’m on the road most of the time and it might be nice to whip up something in the motel kitchenette that doesn’t come frozen in a box with a set of heating instructions. I happen to like apple pie and you happen to make the best in town, so I figured you could help me out.” He’d pulled his shirttails free of his jeans and unfastened the top buttons of his western shirt. The vee afforded her a glimpse of silky chest hair and tanned skin.
Her stomach tingled and her nipples tightened and all was right with her world.
Sex.
That’s all it was between them. It wasn’t as if she liked standing next to him, working side by side, as a slow, twangy country song drifted from the radio sitting atop a nearby shelf. It was all about the heat that raged between them. The intense lust. The overwhelming physical attraction. About packing as much punch as they could into their short time together so that she could work out all her frustrations and get her mind back on her business.
She held tight to the thought as she retrieved several cold chunks of butter from the large stainless-steel refrigerator. Thankfully, she could feel his eyes following her as she reached for a pastry cutter and chopped up the butter before tossing it into the flour. Her skin prickled with awareness as he moved next to her and added half a cup of the ice water sitting nearby. Her nipples tingled. Her tummy quivered.
He turned and his arm brushed against her breast. A tiny thrill of excitement zipped up her spine. He stared deep into her eyes and for a split second, she felt him lean forward. His warm breath brushed her lips and she closed her eyes. This was more like it. They could forget all this domestic crap and get to the really good stuff. He was going to kiss her—
“Oops, I think I left my cell phone in the car,” he murmured before planting a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Don’t add anything else until I get back.”
Her nose. He’d kissed her nose, of all things.
Her skin tingled and a strange warmth stole through her. Okay, so it was nice, but still. It wasn’t what she’d expected.
The sound of his footsteps drew her from the emotional push–pull. Her eyes popped open in time to see him disappear into the front of the bakery. The bell jingled on the front door as he headed outside and she found herself alone.
Her chest hitched at the thought. A ridiculous reaction because the solitude gave her a few minutes to pull herself together and remember that she wasn’t here for nice.
She drew a deep, shaky breath and hit the ON button on the mixer. The machine grumbled, incorporating the ingredients together until a ball of dough started to form.
She focused her complete attention on adding a tiny bit more flour until the dough reached the perfect consistency to work with.
“It looks good.”
The deep voice stirred the hair on the back of her neck and sent a jolt of awareness through her. Her hands trembled and the flour pitched forward into the mixer. The beaters stirred and a cloud of white dust hit her in the face.
Tyler’s deep chuckle sent tingled through her body. “I didn’t realize a faceful of flour was part of the recipe for a good crust.” He reached out and wiped a smudge from one cheek. The feel of his skin against hers sent a jolt of heat straight to her nipples.
“Very funny.” She turned and reached for a dish towel. “Do you always sneak up on people?” After wiping at her face, she slapped at the sprinkle of white clouding her apron.
His eyes twinkled and his sensuous mouth crooked. “So.” He glanced around. “Where did you learn how to do all of this?”
“My mom.” The words were out before she could stop them. This wasn’t about having a conversation. It was about getting to the good stuff. The physical stuff. “She loved to bake. She won a bunch of contests when she was young. She even placed in the national Pillsbury Bake-Off. She could have gone on to have her own bakery. That was the plan, at least. But then she met my dad and started having kids and she got too busy raising us to even think of opening her own place. She still baked at home and she taught me, and now I’m living the dream for the both of us.” She caught his stare. “What about you? How did you get into bull riding?”
He shrugged. “I used to hang out at the arena and watch my cousin Brett. He made it look so easy and I figured why not try?” He shook his head.
“Easy, huh?”
“Okay, so maybe he just made it look appealing. He was the king when he was on top of that bull. A Sawyer through and through, and I guess I wanted to prove that I was just as much a Sawyer as he was.”
“But you are a Sawyer.”
“And you’re a Tucker.” His grin was slow and wicked and her heart skipped a beat. “Hey, maybe I should get my shotgun.”
Before she could stop herself, she popped him with the dish towel and his grin faded into a look of pure shock. “What was that for?”
“In case you haven’t heard, we Tuckers don’t like you Sawyers all that much,” she said, turning back to wipe the sides of the mixer. She finished up and set the dish towel aside before hitting the ON button again. “You’re the enemy,” she said with a wealth of conviction. He was the enemy. But not because of his last name.
Rather, he threatened her peace of mind. Her future.
She turned then and her gaze caught his. Understanding gleamed so hot and bright in his eyes and a sudden rush of warmth went through her. A feeling that had nothing to do with the lust that burned between them and everything to do with the fact that while Tyler McCall might be her enemy, and she was his, as well, he still felt more for her than he wanted to admit, and it scared him.
Yeah, right.
She tossed the dough onto a slice of plastic wrap and secured the edges before popping it into the refrigerator to chill. “So we’re doing apple, huh?” she asked as she turned back to him.
He arched an eyebrow and his mouth hinted at a grin. “Is there any other kind of pie?”
His expression was infectious and she couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m a big chocolate fan, myself.” She grabbed the bowl of Granny Smiths and started to core and peel.
“Chocolate’s good. But warm, gooey, spiced apples?” He made a mmm-mmm sound. “There’s nothing better.”
“Nothing, huh?”
“Well, maybe one thing,” Tyler’s deep voice whispered into her ears as he came up behind her. “I do have a hankering for blueberries, too.” One hand slid around her waist while the other closed over hers.
“You don’t have to do this.” What the hell? a voice whispered. This was exactly what he needed to do. To get them off the topic of baking and bull riding, and back onto the real reason they’d agreed to spend time together—sex.
She knew that. But her heart beat double time anyway, as if there was much more at stake than getting busy in her kitchen.
The fingertips that held her frantic grip on the apple peeler slid down until his thumb massaged the inside of her palm. The heat started at the tips of her toes, traveling upward until her cheeks burned. Air lodged in her chest and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
“It’s nice, smooth strokes, right?” Tyler murmured, the words little more than a breathless whisper against the sensitive shell of her ear. He held her hand as he slid the peeler over the edge of the Granny Smith in one fluid motion. “Like this?”
She wanted to say yes, but she couldn’t seem to find the words.
She became instantly aware of his hard male body flush against hers, her bottom nestled in the cradle of his thighs. His erection pressed into her, leaving no doubt that he was turned on.
Extremely so.
Her mouth tingled and she had the insane urge to turn into the warm lips nuzzling her ear.
A perfectly natural reaction given the situation. A perfectly physical reaction.
Yet there was more at stake at the moment.
She felt it in the double tap of her heart. In the strange fluttering in the pit of her stomach. Both physical reactions.
The thing was, she’d never felt either with any man before. She’d never wanted to feel anything. To turn into her mother.
To lose her dream. Herself.
No man was worth that.
Not even this man.
Her man.
The thought struck and before she could drop-kick it out of her mind, she turned.
And then she wasn’t just thinking about kissing him, she was actually leaning forward, sliding her arms around his neck, and pressing her lips to his.