One Night Rodeo - Page 14/103

After they were settled in their room, Celia said, “I need a shower. Food. And sleep. Food first?”

“Just as long as it’s steak.”

“Deal.”

They opted for Golden Corral. Hitting the buffet line at different times limited their conversation, which suited Kyle fine. Although Celia kept sending him strange looks.

He dropped her off at the hotel. “While you’re showering I’ll track down the lawyer’s office.” And a liquor store.

When he returned, an hour later, Celia sauntered out of the bathroom in a skimpy camisole that matched the silvery color of her eyes and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms that hugged her ass.

Her hair was unbound. A mass of blond that brushed the lower curve of her butt. Kyle had only seen it in a braid the last couple of years. No wonder she always tamed it. With it untamed, she was a goddess. He had the overwhelming urge to bury his face in those fragrant tresses. Feel the silken strands sliding across his skin. Twined around his body. Christ. This was a bad idea. Maybe he oughta sleep in the truck.

“Hey. What’s that?” She peered in the package and her hair brushed his arm. “You bought beer? And whiskey? We having a wake or something?”

His eyes connected to hers. He fought the need to consume her mouth in a heated kiss. But the scent of her, the sight of her, the inability to have her, might just drive him out of his f**king mind.

He turned away, setting the package on the small table. After ditching his boots, he snagged a cup, ripped off the plastic packaging, and poured himself three fingers of whiskey. Grabbing the remote, he flopped on the bed closest to the TV, offering an offhand, “Help yourself.”

Celia took the ice bucket. She returned a few minutes later and poured herself a whiskey on ice before plopping cross-legged on his bed. “So…”

Her shoulder blocked his view of the TV; he shifted to the right.

“Kyle.”

“Hmmm?”

“Don’t you wanna talk?”

“About?”

“Your father dying. How upset you are with your mom. What’ll happen at the attorney’s office tomorrow.”

“Nope.”

Celia tipped her head so it was right in front of the TV.

“What?” he said irritably.

“Talk to me.”

“Don’t got nothin’ to say. Now move. I’m watchin’ this.”

But she didn’t move. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Why don’t you—”

“Why don’t you understand? It won’t make a lick of difference if we dissect this f**kin’ thing nine ways ’til Sunday. I won’t know anything until tomorrow. For tonight, I wanna forget about it with some bad TV and some good whiskey.” Kyle allowed his gaze to roam over her face, down her chest, and back up to her eyes. “Unless you’re offering another way to make me forget about it, because, kitten, I’m all over that.”

Celia’s skin turned a beautiful shade of pink, from the roots of her hair to the center of her chest. “That’s not what I was suggesting.”

“I didn’t think so. Pity. Now move.”

She flounced off the bed.

Kyle flipped through channels. Poured himself another glass of whiskey. Tried not to stare when Celia braided her hair. Tried not to fantasize about demanding that she unbraid it.

When Celia climbed beneath the covers, he turned the TV down, not off, because he was wired. He downed his fifth shot and he still wasn’t feeling the effects.

His thoughts were a jumbled mess. He just wanted to get some sleep but his damn brain wouldn’t cooperate.

Hours passed. Late-night TV bored him. Tired of staring at the ceiling, he got up and parted the curtains. Great view of the parking lot. The edges were piled high with snow from the last storm. The streets were a muddy gray color that matched the sky. Dreary damn night.

Welcome to January in Wyoming.

“Kyle?” Celia said sleepily, startling him. “It’s three o’clock in the damn morning.”

When he didn’t respond, he heard the swish of bedding, followed by her soft footfalls on the carpet. Her breath teased the back of his neck and her arms came around his waist. She held him for the longest time.

And he let her. He wondered how long she’d stay with him. Would she take off right after they told her brothers about the impending annulment? How soon did she want to meet with Hank and Abe anyway? Tomorrow? Right after they left the attorney’s office? Where would she go? Back to the circuit?

When Kyle sensed her retreat because he hadn’t responded at all to her sweet comfort, he squeezed her hand, then rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “Thanks.”

She murmured, “It’ll be okay.”

“You sure?”

“No.”

No bullshit. That made him smile.

Tiredness finally overtook him after she’d returned to bed. He stripped and crawled between the sheets.

The smell of coffee brewing woke him. Kyle stretched and whipped back the covers.

“Oh my f**king God, you’re naked.”

He cast a bleary eye at Celia perched on the bed across from his. “Yeah. So?”

“So put that thing away.”

Kyle glanced down at his erect dick and grinned. “Nothing personal, kitten. Just a little morning wood.”

She muttered something about it not being little at all.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.”