He’d fallen asleep, his breathing deep and even. Uncertainty made Trisha hover beside the bed. Should she crawl back in beside him, leave him or wake him up? Making that decision was taken from her when he flung out an arm, obviously searching for her. His eyes flew open and he sat up in apparent alarm at not finding her beside him.
Trisha half smiled at the realization he still wanted her and slid under the covers.
“It’s so warm here,” she whispered as she nestled into his arms.
“Could be warmer still.” He turned on his side, taking her with him as he nuzzled her neck and ran a hand down her bare back.
Her eyelids drifted shut in dreamy delight as Cameron’s fingers made lazy circles at the base of her spine. His thumbs slid over her hip bones and whisked over her thigh until his hand nestled behind her knee. Lifting her leg over his waist made it easy for Trisha to take his rampant length into her with a sigh.
What previously had been raw, hard sex became slow, gentle loving. Fingers touched, tangled, explored. Soft, sweet kisses mingled with satisfied sighs and moans of delight. Trisha’s body came alive, tingling from head to toe under Cameron’s touch. His breath whispered over her skin making her shiver with need. He was all hard muscle under her hands yet she marvelled how her touch caused him to tremble.
They rode each other with measured strokes until their pleasure grew, spiked until their breathing shortened in quick sharp gasps. They needed no words for one to encourage the other to move faster, harder, to be guided by the urgency in their sweat slicked bodies. Their climax came in a rush of heat, of quivering muscles and blinding light, of pleasure so deep and extraordinary it bordered on pain.
They held on to each other, riding the quivering aftermath of their lovemaking, their hearts beating in unison while they inhaled each other’s breath and waited for the sensations still shaking them to subside.
Cameron’s breath still rasped in and out of his chest with exertion as Trisha turned her face into the pillow. What they shared was so far beyond anything she had ever experienced and she did not want to consider the implications of what that might mean. Before she could even begin to think of what to say, Cameron groaned. She lifted her head and was shocked to see a broad swath of sunlight splashed across the bedroom wall.
“Morning? Already?”
“Yup.” Cameron rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom.
Trisha peered at her watch and read four-thirty a.m. It was her turn to groan. Where had the night gone? After a very short shower Cameron returned to the bedroom with one towel slung around his hips, another over his head as he vigorously rubbed his hair dry.
“I’ve got to get down to the grounds.” The towel muffled his voice but then he pulled it aside and grinned at her. “Do you want to come with me?”
“I believe I already did.”
Cameron threw the damp towel at her. Trisha laughed even though the thought of him leaving made her heart heavy. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stay here and get a cab over to Samantha’s a bit later. Can I make you coffee?”
“I’d love it, but there’s no time now.” Cameron pulled on his jeans. “Everything you need’s in the kitchen, so just make yourself at home.”
“What if your brother walks in?”
Cameron straightened up and reached for his shirt. “Not likely. But if he does, you’re a Stampede tenant.”
Trisha absorbed that information and while Cameron finished dressing, grabbed a towel and wrapped herself in it. She made her way downstairs to the kitchen. The expanse of granite counter tops and stainless steel appliances reminded her of Cameron’s kitchen. The two brothers’ tastes in décor were remarkably similar.
Cameron came downstairs in a rush, shoved his feet into his boots and grabbed his hat. He couldn’t believe his awkwardness. He’d shared something deep and precious with Trisha and leaving her was the last thing he wanted to do.
He couldn’t think of a darn thing to say to her as he stopped at the door with one hand about to turn the knob, the other on his hip, his gaze on the floor.
Hell, talk about a tongue-tied teenager. He didn’t want her to think that last night was all he’d wanted from her. Nothing could be further than the truth but he couldn’t make her any promises. Not until he knew for sure exactly what he did want.
He had to go but every part of him wanted to stay. He dared to look back at her and wished he hadn’t. She stood by the kitchen counter, clutching the towel around her slim body. Her un-brushed hair curtained her face but not enough to prevent him seeing a suspicious sheen forming in her eyes.
What was with that? He’d given her fair warning of what to expect, knowing he’d find it hard to hold back. Had his lovemaking been too vigorous for her? Or did she think he’d got what he’d wanted and was walking out on her? He didn’t have time to ask or to reassure her, he knew he was running late and had to get moving.
“Oh, damn,” he said softly as he went back to her. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
He whisked a tear from her cheek with his thumb then leaned in to kiss her.
“No, you didn’t,” she whispered when their lips parted. Reaching up she laid her hand on his cheek. “I’m being unreasonable. I just don’t want you to go.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to get my butt in gear.” He took her hand and kissed her fingers, swore again and then tore himself away. “I’ll call you later.”
Trisha listened to the purr of the truck engine, the mechanical whirr of the overhead door as it opened and closed, then the silence once Cameron was gone. The emptiness engulfing her rocked her to her core.
She sniffed hard and swiped her hand across her face. How could she possibly feel so much for a man she so recently met and knew so little about? How had she allowed this to happen? The pain now would be nothing to what it would be if her past history became known. She couldn’t let it ruin what had to be a short time together.
“Time to pull up your big girl panties,” she told herself. She sniffed again and ignored the knot of tension forming in her stomach as she returned to the chaos of the bedroom. The comforter lay half on, half off the bed. Her clothes were strewn across the floor and she sighed as she started picking them up. If she spent any more time with Cameron she’d have to invest in a laundrette. She shook out her jeans and shirt, laid them across the bed to smooth out the worst of the creases before taking a shower.
Once dry and dressed, she surveyed the crumpled bedding and piles of damp towels with some consternation. Cameron hadn’t said he was coming back, and she didn’t think there was any room-service to tidy up after them. She quickly straightened the sheets and comforter and arranged the towels over the edge of the bath and shower rail to air dry. When she had done what she could, she ran downstairs and let herself out of the house. The door swung closed behind her with a solid thunk, but she checked it all the same. Satisfied that it was secure, she walked down the driveway and crossed the road.
Despite the early hour the sun already blazed in a crystal-clear blue sky and the reflection off the acres of glass on the downtown buildings dazzled her. A few runners jogged past her, dog walkers wished her good morning, all while her heart and head warred with each other.
Far below the pathway on which she walked, the fast flowing river sparkled like a living thing. It separated her from Samantha’s condo, but when she reached a point opposite the building, she stopped and pulled out her phone.
“’Lo? That you Trisha?” Samantha’s voice sounded heavy with sleep but then she let out a screech. “Are you nuts? It’s not even six. Where the hell are you?”
“Look out your window and I’ll wave to you,” Trisha said.
“What are you doing over the river in Crescent Heights?” Samantha sounded wide awake now. “Don’t answer that, just stay there and give me a few minutes. I’ll come and pick you up.”
Trisha closed her phone and sat on the low balustrade separating the road from the path. She pushed her hands into her pockets and slumped down. She couldn’t get Cameron out of her head and didn’t want to. He’d annoyed her at first but that, she admitted, had been as much her fault as his. Now his kindness, his gentleness, his sense of humor made her want to believe in a future.
For a brief moment she allowed herself to imagine what being with Cameron would be like. She could think of nothing better than making a home together. But how could it possibly work? These thoughts had to stop. They would lead nowhere.
She wouldn’t risk the crippling pain of loss all over again. No, she would see him as much as she could while she was here and then she’d walk away.
A sudden blast of music from the east end of town brought her out of her reverie, reminding her that today was Stampede Parade day. Maybe that was why Cameron had to leave so early. Was he riding in the Parade? He hadn’t said so but then, anything was possible.
Trisha didn’t hear the car pull up behind her, wasn’t aware of anything or anyone until Samantha flopped down beside her.
“Penny for them,” she said, nudging Trisha’s shoulder.
Trisha turned to her, ignoring Samantha’s questioning look and shocked gasp.
“Oh, my god, girl. I take it you had a good night?”
“Unforgettable,” Trisha agreed in a voice not much above a whisper.
She dropped her gaze to avoid Samantha’s piercing scrutiny but failed miserably. Samantha nudged her again and asked quietly, “You’ve fallen in love with him, haven’t you?”
“What?” Trisha’s breath hitched in her throat. “No, of course I haven’t.”
Another blast of music from downtown prevented Samantha from asking any more disconcerting questions. Trisha boosted herself off the rail, thankful for the interruption. How could she admit anything to Samantha that she was not first going to admit to herself?
“Come on,” she said. “Don’t we have to watch a parade or something?”
Samantha looked at her watch. “Not before we get you home for a fresh change of clothes. Your car awaits, my lady.”
She did her best impression of an English accent, but her efforts went unnoticed as Trisha slid into the luxury of the car’s navy suede upholstery. The lost look in her eyes worried Samantha as did the weight loss and her friend’s dry, brittle manner. She appeared as fragile as a winter twig that would snap under the slightest pressure.
“You know,” she offered as she stopped at traffic lights, “fantastic sex doesn’t necessarily equal love.”
“This was not just sex,” Trisha insisted. “I don’t even want to try and describe what it was. And don’t you dare ask for details.”
“Spoil sport,” Samantha grumbled, but then relented. “Look, you’ve never been hip-deep in cowboys before. They are overwhelmingly rugged, strong, sexy men. You could meet another guy in ten minutes that would obliterate Cameron Carter forever.”
“Nice try, Samantha, but you’re wrong.”
“Sweetie—”
“Don’t say anything. Just don’t.” Trisha put up her hands as if fending off whatever Samantha intended saying. “You know I’ve dated, you know Tony and I had a long term relationship, but nothing like this has ever happened to me before.”
“So what are you going to do about it?” Samantha drove into the gloom of her condo’s underground parking lot.
“Do?” Trisha sighed with resignation and shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Samantha pulled up in her stall and looked at Trisha in disbelief. “You’re telling me you’ve never felt like this before, not even with that jerk Tony who you fortunately didn’t marry and you’re going to do nothing?”
“How could anything between us really work?” Trisha blurted. “Think about it Sammie, he’s this side of the pond and I’m the other. Whether I like it or not I travel, a lot. How’d we deal with that?” She rubbed her forehead wearily. “I’ll help you with your cowboy photographs and the cover models then I’ll complete my assignment and go home. End of story. Now I think it’s time to go get ready to watch this parade you’ve been yakking on about.”
“Oh, crap,” Samantha muttered as Trisha, face pale and mouth a curt tight line, shot out of the car but then crumpled against it, dropping her head onto her folded arms on its roof. Samantha stood beside her and slipped an arm around her shoulders.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Trisha mumbled.
“I’m sorry I bugged you.” Samantha gave her a squeeze. “We must be the sorriest pair on the block. Come on. We’ll get changed and leave the car here. We can walk up Eighth Street and if we’re lucky we’ll find a spot to take in the parade.”
Trisha agreed, too exhausted to argue. How she wished she’d never made that phone call to Samantha in the first place, or that she’d allowed herself to be jockeyed into Samantha’s wretched schemes.
Most of all, and much too late, she wished she’d never loved that cowboy.