One Night With a Cowboy (15 page)

He forced his focus away from her looks and back to the subject at hand. “Becca, there
aren’t very many riders who can earn a living just from riding bulls. Not at that
level of competition anyway.”

“How was I supposed to know that? You said you had an envelope full of cash just from
coming in second that night.” She ditched her cup on the table and crossed her arms
over her chest.

Tuck let out a laugh. “Yeah, I had an envelope full of twenties. Not hundreds. It
wasn’t like I competed in and won the national finals in Vegas, Becca. There’d be
a lot of extra zeroes added to the prize money if I had. All I did was take second
in one event in a little local rodeo.”

“I don’t know that kind of stuff. I’m a New Yorker. There’s no rodeo there.”

He cocked a brow. “Actually, there are rodeos there, and I hate to correct a professor,
but you’re no longer in New York. Now it seems you live in Oklahoma, doesn’t it? You
see, darlin’, the blame swings both ways. You never told me what you were doing here.”

“It didn’t come up.”

“Actually it did. That morning, when I asked you to spend the day with me. Remember
your answer? You said you had a meeting. An important one. That it was the whole reason
you’d flown here to begin with.”

“That’s all true.”

“I’m sure it is, but that might have been a nice time to mention this meeting was
an interview at OSU for a position that if you got it would mean you would no longer
be living a thousand miles away in New York, but instead just a few miles down the
road from where you and I spent the night sweating up the sheets.”

The sheets comment had her looking horrified. He didn’t care.

“You wanna know what I think, darlin’?” Tuck didn’t wait for the answer. Now he’d
gotten started, he was on a roll. And as pansy ass as this white wine was, it had
been a long time since he’d eaten lunch and the second cupful he’d downed in one gulp
had gone to his head enough to loosen his tongue. “I think I was good enough to scratch
your itch for a night, but that’s it, because you think I’m not good enough for you.”

Her eyes opened wide before they narrowed. He watched her nostrils flare. Phew, she
looked even hotter when she got angry. “Let me tell you something . . . I could say
the same thing about you. Did the thought of us seeing each other again even once
cross your mind that night? No, more important than that, since that night have you
even given me a second thought while you’re strutting around in your tight little
jeans and assless leather chaps in front of all those perky young girls behind the
chutes? Huh?”

Well, now. This was an interesting turn of events. Was Becca jealous? Still, it didn’t
make him pull his punches when he said, “You don’t know me near as well as you think
you do, darlin’.”

He had thought of her. Every damn day, and worse, every night. It had cost him hours
of sleep he couldn’t stand to lose with his overly filled ROTC and rodeo schedule.

“Well, you . . . you . . .” She struggled for words. “You don’t know me, either.”

Tuck laughed. “Yeah. That’s become more than obvious. Excuse me. I need to get . .
. somewhere.”

He was done with this conversation. He turned away from her and made a beeline through
the sparse crowd to Logan. Orders or not, he had to get out of here. He needed to
cool off was what he needed to do. Get away from her and all the emotions she riled
up. Get alone to consider this new revelation. Jealousy was the last thing he’d expected
from Becca.

Of course, it could just be the typical female reaction. The hellcat rising up inside
her. She didn’t want him, but she didn’t like the thought of anyone else being with
him, either. Then again, he’d noticed an insecure side to her that night. Maybe she
did think he was a player and she was just a notch in his belt.

It was all too much for him to deal with here and now, under the watchful eye of both
his boss and hers.

He paused just long enough to say to Logan, “I’m out of here.”

“Where’s my wine?” Logan’s gaze dropped to Tuck’s hand, where he held one empty plastic
cup.

“I drank it.” Tuck waited to be dismissed.

His superior took his sweet time answering, but finally he nodded. “All right. You
can go. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at PT. Zero-six-hundred.”

“Yes, sir.” Even a pre-breakfast workout sounded better to Tuck than spending one
more minute here second-guessing himself and obsessing over Becca, his feelings, hers,
that night . . .

Watch cap planted on his head, Tuck strode out of the room, and out of the building.
The heat beating on his back was a welcome change after being trapped inside that
room. Hell, maybe he’d even run back to his building. He could sure use the diversion.

“E
verything all right?”

Becca glanced up, but the man in the uniform standing in front of her pouring himself
a cupful of wine wasn’t the one who had her heart pounding. What was his rank again?
His last name was written on his chest, but that didn’t do her much good since she
was pretty sure she couldn’t call him mister.

“Um. Yes. Fine, Lieutenant.” She tried not to cringe as she heard the doubt in her
own voice when she took a shot at remembering his rank.

“You can call me Logan, Doctor.” He smiled. “It’s only the cadets who have to call
me Lieutenant Colonel or sir.”

“All right.” She nodded. “And please, call me Becca.”

She’d worked hard to get her doctorate, but she still felt strange being called doctor
by anyone other than a student. It wasn’t like she was a medical doctor or curing
cancer or something.

“Becca.” Logan returned her nod.

She’d seen Logan and Tucker talking. She could only imagine what that conversation
had been about. Her. Them. That night. Still, Becca couldn’t stop herself from saying,
“So I see your friend had to leave.”

Logan’s brows rose. “Yeah, he did. But he’s never too far away. If he’s not here on
campus with the cadets, he’s at home alone in his apartment just off campus. Then
of course, sometimes you can find him on the back of a bull at the rodeo.”

The way he was watching for her reaction after that rodeo comment told Becca he knew
something. She opened her mouth but couldn’t figure out what to say, so she closed
it again.

Logan smiled. “I’ve known Tuck for a long, long time. Not just since his billet here
in the ROTC program. We grew up next door to each other. As a kid, he was in my house
as often as he was home. He went through school in the same grade as my little brother.
I’ve got a few years on them both, but I can’t remember a day the two of them weren’t
getting under my feet, or getting into some sort of trouble.”

His casual friendly grin put her at ease, and the chance to get inside information
about Tuck, even if he had acted like a jerk today, was too tempting to resist. She
smiled. “You do know him well.”

“That I do. And I know even though he can be a real smart ass sometimes, there’s not
a bad bone in that man.”

Again, she found herself taken off guard by Logan’s comment. She swallowed. “That’s
good to hear.”

“So, you settled in after the move?”

“Mostly. I still have a few more boxes to unpack, but moving was actually less stressful
than I thought it would be.” This she could handle. She’d been fielding this question
for days now from family back home and people she’d just met here.

“Good. I’m glad. And there’s a staff directory with contact info for everyone who
works here. In case you need anything, everyone is just a phone call away. You know
who’s really good at unpacking boxes?”

“Who?”

“Anyone who’s in the military. Moving. Organizing. All that kind of stuff. It kind
of comes with being in the army. Lots of moving around. Tuck and I are pretty much
both experts at moving. You should give Tuck a call to help you.”

Becca couldn’t help her bitter laugh. “I’m sure he has plenty of other things he’d
rather be doing.” Things. Girls.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Logan was sure doing his best to convince her
Tuck was a good guy.

She let out a sigh. After how he’d acted, and how she’d reacted, she didn’t think
she could bring herself to call him. Good thing Emma wasn’t here, exerting undo influence
over her again, or Tuck’s number would already be dialed.

“It’s good to see you mingling.” A smiling Dean Ross appeared at her elbow.

She quickly reviewed the tail end of her conversation with Logan to make sure the
dean hadn’t heard anything he shouldn’t have. As surreal as seeing Tucker here had
been, Logan’s pushing her to call him was equally strange. She had heard people comment
fate had led them to a current boyfriend or girlfriend, but after the past few weeks
she had to wonder if maybe it hadn’t been fate or any other mysterious force in the
universe at all, but simply meddling friends and family.

“Yes, I’ve been making the rounds, and just now the lieutenant colonel and I were
discussing the dreaded chore of unpacking.”

Logan grinned knowingly. “Yes, we sure were. I was offering my world-class advice
on the best way to get that unpacking accomplished.”

The way Logan said the word, she got the sense somehow
unpacking
had become a euphemism for her getting in touch with, and probably doing so much
more with, Tucker.

“Good. Good to hear.” Dean Ross slapped the other man on the back. “Logan and I have
been getting together for a weekly poker game since he took over the ROTC program.”

She couldn’t imagine anything odder than the studious English department dean with
his slightly wrinkled pleated pants and tie, and the lieutenant colonel in his combat
boots and stiff camouflage uniform being friends. She was pretty sure there must be
a good story to go along with the formation of that odd couple, but she didn’t feel
up to asking about it now. She needed to get out of here and regroup after the shock
of seeing Tucker.

Becca saw her opportunity to escape. She suddenly had the urge to call Emma. As amazing
as it seemed, she needed her sister’s advice, which was a testament in itself as to
how much this surprise encounter with Tucker had thrown her off balance.

“Ah, yes. Poker, the manliest of card games.” Grasping her last semblance of calm,
she donned a smile and tried to look normal, as if a ghost from her very recent past
hadn’t just stomped his combat boots right out the door of her welcome mixer.

She glanced around the room. She’d met and spoken to everyone here, and it seemed
less crowded than before, so people had obviously begun to leave. That could have
something to do with the waning cheese plate, which was down to not much more than
the mangled rind from the Brie and a few crackers. Of course the room could feel emptier
just from the absence of Tucker’s looming presence.

“If it’s all right with you, Dean Ross, I’m going to sneak out and get back to that
unpacking we were discussing. Leave you men to discuss your cards.”

“Of course. You must have so much still to get done. I probably should have planned
this little gathering for after you’d settled in more.”

“No, not at all. I’m very happy to have met everyone sooner rather than later.”

Wasn’t that the truth. If Tucker was this pissed off now, she couldn’t even imagine
how mad he would have been after finding out she’d been on campus teaching for a while.
She pushed that thought out of her head, torn between feeling guilty she hadn’t told
him the night they’d met that she might be moving to Oklahoma and being angry he had
the nerve to be mad at her about the oversight.

“That’s exactly what I was hoping.” Dean Ross nodded. “Never too early to make new
acquaintances.”

Or reunite with old ones . . . “Yes, you’re right. It was a lovely mixer. Thank you
so much for arranging it. I feel very welcome here.”

“That’s the idea. Glad you liked it, and I hope the department has you here for many,
many more years to come.”

“Thank you, Dean Ross.” She glanced from her boss to Tucker’s friend. “Pleasure talking
to you.”

“The pleasure was all mine.” Logan treated her to another knowing smile. “Good luck
with that unpacking.”

Meaning good luck with calling Tucker. She’d have to think long and hard about that
advice from Logan. She still wasn’t sure whether she’d be taking it or not, or what
reaction she’d get from the pissed-off cowboy slash soldier slash military science
instructor slash former one-night stand. Her head spun with all Tucker encompassed.

“Thank you.” With a nod to the two men, she gratefully took her leave and headed toward
the door.

Once Tucker had left and the strange conversation with Logan was interrupted by Dean
Ross’s return, she felt the definite need to be out of that room and away from the
scrutiny of both men.

She fled out the nearest exit and into the brilliant sunlight, only to realize that
though the dean had parked right outside this door, her car was in the lot all the
way on the other side of the building. She obviously wasn’t thinking clearly or she
would have gone out the other exit, the one closer to her car, and avoided the long
walk in the August heat. It seemed Tucker had the ability to strip her of all good
sense. He had since the moment she’d met him . . . She couldn’t forget that wasn’t
all he’d done that night. He’d also stripped her of her clothes and her inhibitions.

It was too late now to do anything about her night spent with Tucker or about being
what seemed like a mile from her car because she wasn’t going back inside, walking
past the open door of the party she’d just abandoned to go out the other side of the
building.

Becca peeled off the suit jacket and draped it over one arm. Good thing Emma had made
her wear this tank top. The sun warmed her shoulders as she prepared for the hike
around to the car. She pulled her sunglasses out of her bag and slid them on.

She followed the path that cut through the manicured lawn and led around the building,
but all the while she couldn’t stop glancing up, expecting to see Tucker at every
turn. After the shock of seeing him standing, in uniform, in the last possible place
she’d ever expected to see him, nothing would surprise her now.

The whole situation was crazy. She needed to talk to someone about it. She found her
cell phone and hit the button that brought up her recent calls, and of course, Emma’s
number was right at the top. Becca hit the button to dial.

“About time you called me.” Emma answered on the first ring.

Becca didn’t bother explaining how she couldn’t have called earlier since she’d been
on the campus tour with the dean and then at the mixer until just now. Soothing her
sister wasn’t the purpose of this call. Quite the opposite. If anyone needed some
soothing, it was Becca.

She swallowed away the dryness in her throat and said, “He’s here.”

“Who’s there?”

“Tucker Jenkins, that’s who.” Now she’d said it out loud, and to the only other person
on earth who knew the full impact of what that statement meant, her pulse began to
pound.

“Your bull rider? Wait, here’s where? You mean in Stillwater? Did you see him somewhere
in town? You saw him and didn’t call me right away?” The tone of Emma’s voice went
from sounding surprised to curious to insulted and accusing, all in the matter of
seconds.

“I mean he’s right here at OSU. He was a guest at the welcome mixer I just this minute
left. He’s a member of the faculty.”

“Your cowboy is a teacher?” Her sister’s pitch rose high.

“Apparently, and wait. There’s more. He’s a soldier, not a bull rider. Like an active-duty,
head-to-toe camouflage, combat-boot-wearing kind of an army soldier.”

“What?” Emma sounded about as shocked as Becca had been when she’d walked in and spotted
him there—uniform and all. “Wait. You’re confusing me. You have to start from the
beginning.”

Emma thought
she
was confused. Ha! She should have been in Becca’s place for the unexpected reunion.
Seeing him nearly knocked her off the casual yet professional open-toed, high-heeled
sandals Emma had told her to wear.

The fast pace she’d set toward her car, as well as the pounding of her heart and her
head, had Becca breathless and woozy. Her head had started to hurt the moment she’d
seen Tucker again, and now the ache had gotten worse.

She consciously slowed both her speed and her breathing and launched into the entire
story, beginning with when she’d first spotted two men in uniform from the dean’s
car. It was a riveting enough tale that even Emma remained quiet and listened to her
talk without interruption until the end, and that was saying something.

Becca wrapped it up with, “So that’s it. I got out of there as fast as I could without
being rude and making the dean suspicious, but the last thing his friend Logan hinted
to me right before I left was that I should call Tucker.”

Emma let out an audible breath. “Wow. So what are you going to do?”

“Good question. I have no idea. What do you think I should do?” She juggled her jacket
to dig the car key out of the pocket now that her car was in sight.

Hot, sweaty, and mentally exhausted, she realized how desperate her state was if she
was willingly asking her sister for advice on her love life.

Love life. Ugh. Love was the last thing she wanted to pursue right now. Not on the
heels of the recent demise of her two-year relationship with Jerry, and in the midst
of building a career and a new life in Oklahoma.

Then again, flashing back to that night with Tucker, the sheer pleasure and reckless
abandon, the incredible sex, maybe that was exactly what she needed.

 

Becca picked up her cell phone, then put it back down on the table. Staring at it
wasn’t going to magically resolve the situation with Tucker. Though calling him might
not do that, either. He’d seemed pretty angry with her at the party.

She let out a huff, wishing Emma were here to dial the phone, then hand it to her
once he’d answered and it was too late to hang up, like she’d done when Becca was
too chicken to call and invite Billy Beckley to the junior prom. That had worked out
pretty well back then. Billy had said yes, but unlike her prom date, Tucker wasn’t
seventeen. He hadn’t spent the entire eleventh grade sitting next to her in English
class asking her to help him with his essays.