One Night With a Cowboy (11 page)

B
ecca stood outside the room she’d thought she’d be sharing with her sister last night
and took out her keycard. What were the chances Emma would still be sleeping? Or even
better, out getting breakfast. Even if Emma had encouraged her to go for it with the
cowboy, Becca still considered coming home in the morning wearing last night’s clothes
a walk of shame.

Desperately hoping she’d be able to avoid Emma and her questions, at least until after
she’d showered and dressed for her interview, Becca opened the door as quietly as
possible. She knew by the bright lights on in the room that Emma was definitely awake.

“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.” Emma was not only up, but dressed
and standing, arms crossed, looking too much like their mother.

Becca avoided eye contact, thinking that was the safest course of action. “Morning.
I gotta shower and get dressed or I’m going to be late for this interview.”

She’d only taken a step toward the bathroom when Emma said, “Oh, no, you don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Playing dumb seemed like a very good plan at the moment.

“Don’t you dare think you can walk in here practically glowing, twelve hours after
I last left you with a cowboy hot enough to melt ice cubes just by looking at them,
and not say a word to me about what happened.” Emma planted her fists on her hips.

“I could say the exact same thing. I left you with Jace, didn’t I? Are you going to
tell me what happened?” She turned the logic back on to her sister. Offense was the
best defense, after all.

“No.” Emma’s face blanched before she recovered. “Besides, that’s different.”

Interesting. Now Becca was really curious. “Oh, really. I don’t see any difference
at all.” She folded her arms and waited.

Emma let out a huff. “Okay, we’ll agree to no details about the guys or our nights.”

“Good.” Becca spun toward the bathroom.

“But I need to know one thing.”

She released a loud, lip-flapping breath and looked back at Emma. “What’s that?”

“Just tell me you had a good time.” Emma’s voice softened, sounding as if she really
did want to know Becca was happy. That figured. Her sister always could melt her heart,
even while annoying her.

“I had a good time.” She indulged Emma with an answer, even if that response was the
understatement of the year. Good was so not the adjective she should use. Incredible.
Unforgettable. Orgasmic . . . But there was no way she was going to tell her sister
about Tucker’s unbelievable skills in bed, or her multiple orgasms, or how she’d felt
a strange sadness when she’d walked away from him just now. Nope. Not gonna happen.

A wide, satisfied grin settled on Emma’s lips. “And?”

“And what?” Becca frowned. She really did need to finish up this chatter and shower.

“And what happened when you said good-bye? Are you going to see him again?”

“You said one thing, and I told you. No more.” She had to hide her own smile as Emma
frowned and looked totally frustrated she wasn’t getting more information. “Besides,
I still have to shower, dry my hair, and get dressed so we can check out, drive to
Stillwater, and hopefully get something to eat before my interview.”

Becca glanced at the clock again. She wasn’t kidding. She really did have to get ready,
but it was also a good excuse to avoid giving Emma details she’d rather not provide.

Emma pouted, looking more thirteen than thirty. “Fine. Get ready, but we’re not done
here.”

“No, we’re not. Fair is fair. I answered your question so you still have to tell me
one thing about your night with Jace, and I still have an interview to hopefully not
screw up.” Now, without Tucker as a distraction, her nerves about the upcoming meeting
with the dean at OSU began to kick in full force.

“You’d better not screw it up.”

She heard her sister’s last bossy order on her way to the bathroom. “I’ll do my best.”

After she’d taken the quickest shower of her life, Becca tried to ignore the tug of
her sex-induced muscle soreness as she stepped over the edge of the tub. When she
wiped away the steam from the mirror, she discovered yet another memento when her
reflection came into view—the bruise Tucker had left on her throat.

When the hell had that happened?

There apparently would be no forgetting Tucker soon with all the reminders he’d left
her. She shook her head at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. A hickey. At
her age and on a day she had a huge interview that could mean the difference between
her having to take a job checking out customers at her local supermarket or becoming
an associate professor, even if it was halfway across the country from everything
she knew and loved. No pressure there.

“I’m ironing your blouse for you. It got wrinkled in the suitcase.” Emma’s voice came
through the closed bathroom door, making Becca feel guilty for hiding in there so
she didn’t have to answer any more questions about last night. Her guilt didn’t make
her open the door and face her sister, however.

With a huff, she grabbed her makeup bag from the vanity and pawed through to find
her cover-up, all while hoping Emma hadn’t noticed the mouth-shaped bruise.

“Thank you.” Becca swiped a thick layer of makeup over the spot on her neck. She followed
it with powder and decided that was the best she could do.

She stared at her reflection in the streaked mirror. There were dark circles beneath
her eyes, but at the same time, they’d never looked so bright, and her cheeks were
flushed with a healthy glow. One night of crazy sex with a cowboy and she barely recognized
herself. As she searched beneath the vanity for the hotel’s hair dryer, she tried
to decide whether that was a good thing or not.

A knock on the bathroom door made her jump. Ready or not, she reached for the doorknob
and found Emma on the other side. “Hey. You need to get in here?”

“No. Take your time. I finished ironing your shirt. I thought you might need it. Though
if you went without the blouse under your suit jacket, you might really be a shoo
in for the position.” Emma smirked.

Becca laughed. She reached for the hanger Emma held out to her, all the while praying
the makeup covering her hickey was holding up to the sister scrutiny. “Thanks for
this.”

“No problem.” Emma leaned against the door frame and didn’t look like she was going
anywhere.

Becca hung the shirt on the towel bar and reached for the hair dryer. The heat and
the noise from a good old blow dryer set on high should hopefully do the trick to
drive a nosy sister away.

“Can I ask you something?”

Crap. Emma had snuck her question in before Becca had a chance to even turn the dryer
on.

“Um, I guess.”

“What are you going to say? If they offer you the job after this interview, will you
take it?”

The same question had plagued Becca ever since the call from the dean. A week ago,
she hadn’t been sure of the answer. Now, however, what she needed to do seemed to
be clear. Though foreign and far from everything she’d ever known, Oklahoma seemed
nice enough—what little she’d seen of it. And she really was working toward the bottom
of her cash savings. And this was an associate professor position, which was what
she’d been working toward and never got at Vassar . . .

“If they offer it to me—and remember, there’s no guarantee they will—yes, I think
I’ll accept it.” She flipped on the dryer before Emma could comment on her response,
but as she reached for the hairbrush, she didn’t miss her sister’s smug look.

Emma obviously assumed it was the night of hot sex with Tucker that had swayed her
decision. Refusing to even think that might be true, Becca frowned at her reflection
and began to blow her hair into submission when a folded newspaper landed on the vanity
in front of her. She glanced at it, and the many circled listings.

“What’s that?” She had to shout over the noise of the dryer, but she wasn’t giving
Emma the satisfaction of turning it off. Besides, that interview was growing nearer
by the moment.

“Apartment listings.”

“Em, I don’t even know if I have the job yet.”

“There’re a couple of one-bedrooms for six-hundred dollars a month. Utilities included.”

She lowered the dryer. Six hundred? With utilities? Wow. She could actually do this.
Move here and live very comfortably. She raised the dryer again and ignored the satisfied
expression on Emma’s face in the reflection in the mirror. “I’ll take a look at it
later. I can’t be late for this interview if you really want me to get this job.”

“Oh, believe me. I do.”

And she knew the reason why Emma was extra determined she get this job. His name was
Tucker.

 

Twenty minutes after he had called Jace from the hotel room, Tuck found his best friend
in the diner.

Jace glanced up from his cup of coffee. “So? What happened?”

Tuck shook his head and let out a short laugh. “A hello would be nice before you start
interrogating me. And you know better than to ask that.”

He slid into the booth and eyed the mug in Jace’s hand. Wishing coffee would magically
appear in his, he looked around for a waitress.

“Why shouldn’t I ask?” A deep frown furrowed Jace’s brow. “You used to tell me everything
about your women all the time. Hell, I was in the same room with you for one of them.
I had to pretend I was sleeping while you got all the pussy. Granted I was a little
shitfaced after polishing off that bottle of bourbon with you, but I was still there
and I heard every damn
Oh, Tuck
all night long.” The scowl told Tuck Jace hadn’t been too happy about it, either.

Sad, but true. But that was a time in his life that was over now. He drew in a deep
breath and blew it out hard. “I know, and I’m sorry about that, but last night was
different.”

“Oh, really? And why is that, exactly?” Jace looked more smug than interested in what
Tuck had to say, as if he already knew the answer.

“Because.”

“Because . . .” Jace let the very leading sentence trail off and waited for Tuck to
finish it.

He was too tired and hungry to deal with Jace’s questions. He probably did need a
little bit of self-analysis about last night and this morning with Becca and its lingering
effects on him, but he didn’t want to do it with Jace. Though there wasn’t anyone
else he could talk to about this. Jace had been there right up until the post-rodeo
activities had begun.

“I guess because Becca’s different. She’s a lady.” Tuck’s mamma might have had her
hands full raising him and his brother, not to mention his younger sister, but she
still got through to him a man needed to treat a lady like a lady. Becca was that.

“You sure that’s it?” Jace’s brow rose.

“Yes. What else could it be?” Tuck clenched his jaw. Jace was almost making him angry
in his attempt to get him to admit something he didn’t want to. The truth. That he
liked Becca, a lot, and hated that he’d never see her again.

“You sure you don’t want to discuss Becca because you actually want more?”

“Of course I want more. Who wouldn’t? You saw her.” Tuck put him off like it was all
about the sex.

Jace shook his head. “Joke all you want, but I think you can see yourself starting
something with her. Like a relationship.”

What the hell was with Jace, playing therapist all of a sudden?

“A relationship? No. That’s ridiculous.” He twisted in his seat and looked behind
him. Where was that damn waitress? He needed some coffee and a distraction to get
Jace off his back.

“It’s been long enough since the divorce, Tuck. Why not a relationship?”

“Why not? Are you kidding me?” Besides the catastrophic end to his last serious relationship
and the scars it had left? “For starters, she lives in New York. Even if that weren’t
a thousand miles and worlds away from Oklahoma, she didn’t give me her number. If
she’d wanted to contact me, she would have at least asked for my number, and she didn’t,
which proves it was a one-night thing. For both of us.” He added the last part without
much sincerity. He definitely wouldn’t have minded if it hadn’t been only one night.

It sucked watching her leave his room knowing he’d never see her again. Shit. Maybe
he did want that serious relationship after all. That was as frightening as it was
depressing since, want it or not, he wasn’t going to get it.

“She’ll find you if she wants to.” Jace sipped again on his coffee.

He let out a snort. “Oh, really? How?”

“You’re the famous state rodeo champion Tucker Jenkins. One quick search on the Internet
and she’ll be able to find you.”

Tuck laughed, at both the famous comment and that she’d bother to search for him online.
“Whatever. Enough about me and my night. What happened with you last night?”

“What do you mean?” Jace donned an overly innocent expression, which only made Tuck
more interested.

“Coffee?” Finally, thankfully, a waitress walked over with a coffeepot. Though her
timing wasn’t great since it interrupted his interrogation of Jace about his evening
with Emma.

“Yes, please.” He pushed the empty mug sitting on the paper place mat toward her and
then refocused on his elusive friend. “You know what I mean. You were at the hotel
bar last night with Emma.”

“Yes, I was. Where you ditched me without so much as a call or a text or a screw you,
buddy.”

He splashed cream into his mug and took his first blissful sip of caffeine before
answering. “Becca texted Emma.”

“And that makes it all right? Humph. Some friend you are.” Jace looked away, playing
up the role of insulted best friend a little more.