Must Love Cowboys (20 page)

“There might be one I'm supposed to take at bedtime. Not sure.”

I followed him into his room, noticing a slight shuffling of his feet as he walked. I couldn't recall that he'd moved that way when I first arrived, although at the time, I hadn't been paying any attention to his gait. I probably would now; I'd watched Grandpa like a hawk for years.

Old habits die hard…

Calvin retrieved a sack full of medication bottles from his dresser and handed it to me. I was thankful to see a full bottle of nitroglycerine tablets in there along with several other prescriptions.

“Hmm…metoprolol succinate, Plavix, and simva-statin.” That last one I recognized as a medication Grandpa had taken to lower his cholesterol; the rest I would have to look up. I handed him the simvastatin. “You should take one of these tonight and the others in the morning. If you don't have a pill organizer, I can run into town and get you one. Grandpa was on so much stuff, putting it in an organizer was the only way I could keep it all straight.”

“Thanks, Tina. I'd appreciate that.” With a rueful smile, he added, “Guess I should've paid more attention to my blood pressure and cholesterol before now. I knew they were both high, but I really hate taking medicine. It's my own damn fault I wound up in the hospital.”

Given the discussion I'd had with Wyatt earlier that evening, I wasn't sure whose fault it was. However, until we found further proof, I saw no point in giving Calvin anything else to worry about.

“Don't be too hard on yourself, Calvin. You're not the only man who doesn't like to take his meds. Half the time I had to disguise the stuff I gave Grandpa, especially toward the end when he was having one of his bouts of paranoia. Even when he was perfectly lucid, he wasn't what you'd call compliant.” I sometimes wondered why he'd been so resistant. Was it a refusal to admit weakness, or was it simply a matter of not wanting to rely on a bottle of pills to keep him alive? Never having asked the question, I didn't know.

“I'll just bet you did. John always was a stubborn fellow.” Smiling somewhat reminiscently, he set the sack back on the dresser and headed into his bathroom.

A better nurse would've waited until he actually swallowed his evening dose, but I figured I could trust him to take it on his own. He'd learned that lesson the hard way.

* * *

Nick and Wyatt were still at the sink washing dishes when I went back to the kitchen. As I passed behind them, I did something I'd never done before in my life—to anyone. I grabbed Wyatt's ass.

Actually, it was more of a fondle than a grab, but he obviously felt it because he aimed a sly wink over his shoulder at me as I headed toward the freezer.

Nick's chuckle proved he'd either seen or at least guessed what I'd done. “Not shy anymore, are you, Tina?”

“I wouldn't say I was completely cured,” I said. “But I'm getting there.”

He nodded. “Are you two gonna be sneaky like you and Dean were? Or are you planning to openly bunk together?”

Clearly Dean and I hadn't been sneaky enough if Nick thought that. “Dean and I did
not
sleep together.” On the other hand, the fact that I not only didn't blush but was able to form a rational reply was further proof of how far I'd come in my battle with shyness. “Besides, the bed is much too small.”

“You could put two bunks together,” Nick suggested, apparently undeterred by such a minor detail.

“And have one of us fall through the crack in the middle of the night? No, thank you.” Opening the enormous freezer, I began digging around for pork chops. Unfortunately, since the different meats were all wrapped in white paper and many of the labels were smudged, they weren't easy to find.

“No, really,” Nick persisted. “That wouldn't happen if we tied the bed frames together.”

“I dunno if I'd like that or not. I'm used to sleeping alone.” A glance at Wyatt, whose shoulders were now shaking with barely suppressed laughter, gave me an idea. “Besides, what with Wyatt's bad shoulder and all, he might have a hard time getting comfortable.”

“Not if you massaged it for him real good,” Nick said. “He'd probably sleep like a baby.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” I finally found some pork chops, but the package was pretty small, so I rummaged around until I found three more. By this time, my fingers were practically frostbitten. “What kind of pie did you say you wanted?”

“I didn't,” Nick replied. “And don't change the subject.”

“I'll change the subject if I want to.” I glared at my so-called boyfriend. Although I was very glad he had shaken off the demons of his past and regained his sense of humor—at least temporarily—his continued silence was a teensy bit exasperating. “Doggone it, Wyatt, will you please say
something
?”

Wyatt stopped laughing just long enough to say, “We could use baling wire to hold the beds together.”

“Thanks a bunch, Wyatt,” I said. “Do you really think we can get away with anything that, that…blatant?”

“Sure. We're two consenting adults.” He glanced at Nick. “Doesn't bother you, does it?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course it doesn't bother him. He's the one who suggested it!”

“Hey, if an idea is good…” With a shrug, Wyatt snatched up a dish towel and dried his hands.

“Where are you going?” Exasperation coupled with fatigue and a bit of menstrual snappishness made my question sharper than necessary.

“To move one of the extra bunks into your room,” Wyatt replied with perfect calm.

For a moment, all I could do was gape at him. “Right
now
?”

“We're finished with the dishes.” Nick's tone and expression tacked the “well, duh” onto his reply.

“Oh. So you are.” My brain was really beginning to protest the abuse it had taken over the past twenty-four hours. I needed sleep. Badly. Now my desire to dive into bed was being thwarted by two cowboys who were fixing to rearrange the furniture. “Guys, look. I'm exhausted. I didn't get much sleep last night—”

“Neither did we,” Nick countered.

“I know, but I'm guessing you two actually fell asleep at some point.” I looked Wyatt right square in the eyes. “I never did.”

With a flick of his brow, he nodded. “We'll make it quick then.”

That particular response wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but I figured he might be in need of a sympathetic ear. Spilling the beans about his childhood had to have been tough. Then again, he'd been living with his past for a long time. Maybe I was the one who needed to adjust.

I nodded my consent, wondering what the other men would make of the new arrangement, especially Calvin. With him home from the hospital and sleeping in the room next to mine, keeping quiet would be even more important than if Dean and I had ever actually spent a night together. Too bad it would also be more difficult.

But not tonight. Something told me I'd have my mouth too full of Wyatt to let out many cries of ecstasy.

Chuckling to myself, I transferred the frozen pork chops to the refrigerator and rummaged around for pie ingredients. At the rate I was making pies, I wouldn't have been too surprised to find I'd used up all the available frozen fruit. Maybe it was time for a cream pie—butterscotch was my specialty—or even a cake.

I was still pondering that decision when Wyatt and Nick came trooping through the kitchen with a bed frame. Considering they'd passed through the mess hall with it, I could hardly wait to hear the comments from the others, who were presumably watching TV.

I didn't have to wait long because Sonny and Dean were right behind them with a mattress. Bull brought up the rear carrying a stack of sheets. The only one missing was Joe, and I'd have bet anything he'd gone after the baling wire.

Oh, bloody hell…

“Y'all are bound and determined to get us”—I caught myself before saying
hitched
—“together, aren't you?”

“Self-defense,” Dean said with a grin. “Wyatt has some pretty wild nightmares. You might have better luck calming him down than we do.”

So…it wasn't so much a matter of getting us together as it was getting Wyatt into a different room. I had to wonder why they hadn't stashed him in the old foreman's quarters before now. But whatever the reason, apparently I was going to have to deal with another man suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. I didn't mind, really, but some combat soldiers tended to come up swinging, especially when awakened by loud noises. Grandpa had been one of them.

On the other hand, it was a safe bet that Wyatt's worst nightmares revolved around a woman's scream. Dean was probably right about me being a better roommate.

It struck me then that Wyatt wasn't all that young—mid-thirties at least, and possibly older. Never having asked him, I didn't know for sure, but he should've been married with children a long time ago. So should I, for that matter. Shyness was my big issue. His was different.

Unless he'd been married before.

Once again I realized how little I knew about the man with whom I was about to start sharing a bed. He seemed to think telling me about his mother's murder said it all, and from his perspective, perhaps it did. I wasn't convinced; I needed to know more. A
lot
more.

Perhaps he
had
been married, and his wife couldn't deal with the horrors of his past. Or maybe he was like Calvin in that respect, avoiding attachments to keep from losing anyone else. He seemed to know what he was doing from a sexual standpoint, so I seriously doubted I was his first.

Had I told him he was
my
first? I didn't think I had, and in the heat of the moment, he could easily have missed the loss of my virginity. There hadn't been much of an opportunity for detailed confessions, either. Maybe that was why he didn't want to be sneaky about our relationship. He wanted everyone to know so there would be no excuse for us not to spend time together.

Guess the double bunk is a good idea after all.

I was fortunate to have reached that conclusion because in the next instant, Joe came through the kitchen with a coil of wire in one hand and a pair of pliers in the other. Why I had ever thought there would be any semblance of privacy in a bunkhouse was beyond me. Case in point, I'd had more men in my bedroom in the past few days than I had in my entire life—even taking into account that I'd lived in a home with a father, a grandfather, and two younger brothers.

I simply waved at Joe as he passed by.

Figuring it would be a while before I could crawl into my makeshift double bed, I made a big batch of tuna salad for the next day's lunch. I had no idea whether the guys all liked tuna, but it had been on the list Dean had given me. Surely someone would eat it.

* * *

At least no one was in my bathroom when I went to take a shower, although to be honest, I half expected Wyatt to join me there. I could've used someone to wash my back.

Yet another novel experience
.

Someone should have stuck me in a bunkhouse years ago. If they had, my shyness would've been nipped in the bud and would never have blossomed into the evil entity it had become. Well…maybe not evil, but that was the way I was thinking at the time. Exhaustion did funny things to me—making me loopy and weird.

So much so that by the time I stumbled out of the bathroom and saw Wyatt stretched out on one side of my newly enlarged bed, I began laughing hysterically.

“What's so funny?” The glance he stole at the bulge in his briefs made me laugh even harder.

“You. Expecting me to sleep with you in that thing.”

“It's sturdier than you think,” he said. “We all but welded the frames together.”

How sweet.
He thought I was only worried about our personal safety. I had other concerns, most of which involved the whole happily ever after thing. So much had happened in a very short time. I hadn't had time to process it all.

Therein lies your problem, Tina. You think too much.

The voice in my head sounded suspiciously like Morgan Freeman. Or maybe it was Alec Guinness. I wasn't sure. Either way, it sounded venerable and wise. I thought perhaps I should listen.

“Does Calvin know you're in here?” Not only would hearing strange noises coming from my room disturb the old man's rest, I could see him trying to return the favor I'd done him by rescuing me from whatever varmint had crawled into my bunk.

He nodded. “Even if he didn't, I don't see how he could've missed what was going on in here earlier. We weren't exactly quiet.”

By that I could safely assume Calvin had either okayed the project or acted in a supervisory capacity. I didn't know which was worse: the guys knowing what we were up to or getting caught in the middle of a steamy tryst. I felt like a new bride being teased by her husband's groomsmen.

Only there hadn't been a wedding. There'd been a—

A
what
? An understanding? Dean and I had started out with a no-strings relationship that, given time, might have gotten a lot more involved. What exactly did I have with Wyatt?

I blew out a weary, resigned breath. At least they'd put the headboards against the wall. If I had to climb over Wyatt to let Ophelia out during the night, whatever arrangement we had would probably end pretty quickly.

He held out a beckoning hand. “C'mon over here and lie down. You look worn-out.”

In that moment, I realized what was bugging me. The night before, Wyatt had picked me up and carried me into my bedroom. Now it was up to me to voluntarily get into bed with him. The subsequent attack of nerves had my feet rooted to the spot. Earlier, I'd been thinking about sucking his luscious cock. Now, it seemed as if those thoughts belonged to another person entirely.

As though he understood my dilemma, he got up and came toward me. Simply watching him move was riveting. The play of muscles beneath his skin. The shock of dark hair, hazel eyes that could appear brooding and forbidding, and a moment later seem welcoming and kind. He gathered me into his embrace.

“You aren't scared, are you?”

The echo of his earlier question cleared my mind. “Not scared, exactly. Just a little out of my element.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest, soothing my ruffled nerves like a balm. “You aren't the only one.”

Frowning, I took a step back. “Seriously?”

“Of course. Here I am, trying to figure out how, after all the horrible things that have happened in my lifetime, I could suddenly get this lucky.”

I hadn't thought of it that way, but sooner or later, everyone's luck was bound to change. “The law of averages, perhaps?”

“Maybe. Remember what you said about not looking a gift horse in the mouth? I've been telling myself the same thing all evening, and I still can't believe I'm here with you.” As if to prove the reality of it all, he tightened his hold on me. “But you're real. Sweet, warm, and adorably sexy.”

The kiss that Nick had interrupted earlier began anew—as warm and intoxicating as hot chocolate laced with rum. From where our lips touched, a thrill began, then slid to my heart before spiraling downward to my core, igniting pangs of desire that probably wouldn't be satisfied.

Bad timing.

He lifted me off my feet and into his arms. A few steps later, I was lying on the bed, amazed that I couldn't feel the seam between the two mattresses. They must've padded it somehow.

Such resourceful fellows…

Wyatt's lips were on mine again. Soft and seeking, loving yet undemanding. As always, his kisses obliterated any resistance. I longed to open to him and welcome him inside.

After kissing his way across my cheek, he hesitated, his lips hovering over my ear. “Am I right in assuming those were menstrual cramps you were having this afternoon?”

His question snapped me out of my blissful state. I may have fibbed about having cramps, but the presumed cause was real enough. “Yeah. Sorry. Blame it on Mother Nature.”

“At least we know my lack of protection last night didn't cause any problems.”

A tiny giggle escaped me. “I'm not sure a pregnancy would faze anyone but me at this point. Everyone else seems to have decided you and me are a done deal.”

“But we aren't a done deal, are we?”

My heart dropped at least two inches within my chest, stretching every major blood vessel like a bungee cord before snapping back into place.

Fortunately, he kept talking, eliminating the opportunity for me to say something I might later regret.

“You have a choice, Tina. You'll always have a choice. I don't ever want you to feel like you don't.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Despite the speed with which everything had happened between us, he obviously wasn't going to force the issue. “The same goes for you. The guys may have booted you out of the bunkhouse, but that doesn't mean you have to stay here.”

He sucked my earlobe into his mouth, sending goose bumps skittering down my neck. With a slow exhale, he let go. “I'm here because I want to be.” His voice was like the rumble of distant thunder, deep and rough. “And the way I feel right now, I always will.”

As declarations of undying love went, it wasn't bad. However, I wasn't ready to make that decision yet, and I was very glad it hadn't been made for me. He was right about the importance of choices. A pregnancy at this stage could be disastrous for both of us.

“I want you to be here too,” I said. “No pressure.”

Another kiss averted anything else I might've said, which was fine with me. The time for words had passed.

I slid a hand down his back to delve beneath the waistband of his briefs. I'd fondled his buns while he was washing dishes with this very thing in mind. Cupping his muscular buttocks in my palm, I squeezed him, hard.

His subsequent groan was all the encouragement I needed. I pushed his underwear down as far as I could, and he took them the rest of the way.

Gotta love a naked cowboy.

I was emboldened by the knowledge that this was my show tonight. He couldn't take the initiative, so it was up to me. I liked that. Liked knowing I could make him groan and sigh. Trailing my fingertips over his buns, I gave them another squeeze before moving on to even better things.

His cock was hard and hot in my hand, and as much juice as he was pumping out, I doubted I would need to break the seal on my brand-new bottle of lube. I was going to suck him first anyway. I hadn't done that yet, and I was dying to give it a try.

I stroked the length of his shaft, marveling at the velvety feel of smooth skin stretched over firm flesh. Needing more, I pushed him onto his back and made a dive for his groin.