She noticed he’d brought the TV from the living room and set it on the dresser. “You’re welcome to my sleeping bag. I’m good with the blankets I got from the hall closet.”
Worry lines etched his forehead and his mouth. Dark circles hung under his eyes. The man was exhausted.
“Set the alarm on your cell phone too so I don’t sleep through my first day as a rancher.”
Kyle fiddled with the TV until the satellite dish worked. He found pillows and spread them across the bed. He stripped to his birthday suit and crawled into his nest.
From his comments, Celia knew he was struggling with what’d happened today, but she also knew not to expect him to confide in her any further.
Kyle didn’t give her a second glance when she wandered in, in her pajamas, unlike last night in the motel room when his hungry eyes had burned away every stitch of her clothing. God. Had that only been last night? So much had happened in such a short amount of time. She slipped into the sleeping bag, twisting to try to get comfy, but she felt like a sausage about to burst her skin.
“Are you always this damn wiggly?”
“I’ve never gotten used to sleeping bags.”
“We can swap, if you’d rather.”
Celia blew out a frustrated breath. “No. I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.”
“Neither do you. But I’m betting it’s a big fat zero on you spilling your guts to me.”
“What would you do, Cele, if I shared every one of my fears about all the shit that went down today?”
“I’d listen.”
He snorted and flipped the channel.
“What?”
“You’re not any better at sharing this stuff than I am.”
His observation surprised her. “I am so better at sharing than you.”
“Prove it.”
“Fine. Ask me anything.”
Kyle shook his head. “It don’t work that way. You have to tell me something. Something that’s completely new that I did not know about you.”
Celia was sure this discussion had a point because Kyle had the sneakiest way of gathering information without her realizing his intent until it was too late. But her pride made it impossible to back down from his challenge, even when she suspected that challenge was rigged. “I was hesitant about committing to travel the circuits with you not because it was you…but because I wasn’t sure I wanted to barrel race at all anymore.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “No kiddin’? What would you do instead?”
“I’m thinking about going to vocational school—if I can get a loan. I figure if Abe can get a four-year college degree while runnin’ a ranch, I might be able to stand school for two years and wind up with a useful skill besides racing around barrels.”
“What would you go to school for?”
“Veterinary assistant. Before Tanna started barrel racing professionally, she went to school for a year in Texas in the same type of program and she said it wasn’t that hard. I’ve always been around livestock, so I’m good working with animals.” Part of her expected he’d sneer at her, because that’s what the old Kyle would’ve done. But he looked interested.
“How serious are you? Like checking on start dates and tuition?”
“Yeah. The next semester starts next fall. The tuition…let’s just say even a couple of big event wins won’t put a dent in the cost of higher education.”
“No one in your family knows about your secret dream to professionally preg-test cows?”
Celia laughed. “Fletch does. He promised me a job if I ever actually followed through and attended school.”
“So working as a vet assistant is your dream job?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Kyle frowned. “Then if you could do anything you wanted and money wasn’t an issue, what would you do?”
“Run my own ranch.”
He went completely still.
“What?”
“Nothin’.” He reached for his beer and swigged. “Get some rest. Been a long day and it’ll be more of the same tomorrow.”
“And the day after that,” she muttered into her pillow.
“What did you say?”
“Ranching is a tough gig. A never-ending, backbreaking round of work.”
“Is that why you decided to barrel race?”
Did he believe she was lazy? “No. I never minded the work. I’m not working on the Lawson ranch because after about a year on the circuit there was no place for me there anymore.”
“Shit, Celia. Sometimes I’m such an ass. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Forget it. Good night, Kyle.”
Giving him the cold shoulder, she closed her eyes. But she couldn’t escape him. Not even in sleep.
She dreamt of him. Intimate snippets. An image of clothes flying. An image of hot skin and hotter kisses. Those intense green eyes staring into hers as his body rose over hers.
She woke with a soft gasp and glanced at Kyle, lost in sleep. Maybe the dream she’d just had wasn’t a dream but a fleeting impression of their wedding night. His bare shoulder peeked out from beneath the blanket and she wanted to put her mouth on that smooth section of skin and taste him. Just to see if that kicked any memories.
But he looked so peaceful. She rolled over and went back to sleep.
Chapter Four
Kyle was seriously f**ked with this ranching business.