Play Me (Barnes Brothers Book 2) Read online

  He stopped then and Sophie realized they’d walked far enough to reach the sharp bend in the creek where it meandered through the field beyond the cabin.

  Tyler moved to stand behind her, slipping his arm from her shoulder to her waist and completing the circle with the other. His chin came to rest on top of her head.

  It wasn’t a particularly intimate embrace but it made her think of other times they’d been this close, other places he’d laid his head.

  When she shivered, he held her tighter. “Cold?”

  “A little,” she answered, and he held her tighter still.

  The sun shone brilliantly, warming her where Tyler didn’t, and reflecting off the creek’s fast-moving water in facets the color of autumn grasses and the green of Tyler’s eyes.

  He inhaled deeply and settled her into his body. “You remind me a lot of Harley, you know.”

  “How so?” she asked, surprised how that pleased her when she’d never met his sister-in-law.

  “You’re both strong-willed. Maybe a little hardheaded. Definitely women to be reckoned with,” he teased.

  His deep chuckle rumbled comfortingly down her back. “From what you’ve told me about her, I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “I meant it as one. She’s a hell of a woman.” Tyler nuzzled her cheek, settled his lips near her ear, and sighed. “A hell of a woman and my know-it-all big brother almost blew it.”

  Uh-oh. Sophie pressed her lips together. “How so?”

  “He wanted a wife, wanted children, but he didn’t want anything to do with love. Harley wasn’t having any of it. And Gardner came real close to losing more than he realized.”

  “She was pregnant?” Sophie had seen Gardner. Her question was rhetorical.

  “Pregnant and ready to raise the child on her own.”

  Good for her, Sophie mused. Slipping from Tyler’s hold, she slapped her leg for Cowboy to come and set off for the cabin. “Better a single parent than an unloving parent.”

  Tyler took a minute to follow. His rubber boots swished through the crisp grass as he lengthened his stride. “Gardner wasn’t unloving. He was so full of it he was about to bust open. He just didn’t want to admit it.”

  “Why?” The question hummed in the air, an active trip wire, tense and twanging, and Sophie waited.

  He stepped ahead of her, glanced her way, remained silent until she looked up. Then he pulled the trigger. “Because he couldn’t afford to be wrong.”

  The jaws of the trap began to squeeze. You can say whatever you want… but you’ll still be wrong. The real truth is that tonight meant everything and we both know it. “How would that have made him wrong?”

  “He had this idea that if he let himself fall in love he wouldn’t have a mind left to call his own. It was already too late, of course. His mind was mush from the first time they talked on the phone.”

  The trap tightened. Sophie resisted, increasing her speed and the distance between them. “I’m sure he had a good reason for the way he felt”

  “I’m sure he did, too. Which is why when he met Harley, it scared him to death.” He pulled alongside her again and took hold of her hand. “Sort of the way I scared you.”

  She pulled her fingers free, reached up and thumped his cap off his head. “Better watch it, Dr. Barnes. The brim of that cap doesn’t look big enough to hold in that ego of yours.”

  “Hey, what’s a healthy dose of ego between friends?” he said, snagging the cap from the ground.

  They’d reached the back steps of the cabin. Sophie climbed and Tyler followed. Followed until he couldn’t, leaving her no room to open the door.

  She turned, crossed her arms over her chest, and waited.

  He reached up, slid her sunglasses from her face. “I heard you cry in your sleep, Sophie. I don’t think talking about your folks made you sad, though I could be wrong about that. I don’t think it was frustration, though there was enough of that going around. I don’t think you’re lonely. You’re too sure of yourself, too confident. What I think is that what happened between us frightened you. Made you wonder what you’ve been missing.” He traced a finger down her jaw. “Why you’re missing it. And if you’ve been wrong about some things.”

  The son of a bitch. “What have I told you about analyzing people, Dr. Barnes?”

  “I know what you told me. But I also know what I know.” He backed off the porch, down the steps, and tossed her the glasses. “The first thing I know is that I’ve gotta get back and help with the bridge. The second thing I know is that now that you’ve met me your life will never be the same.”

  She stood there and watched him disappear around the side of the cabin. Then she turned and walked inside, doing a damn fine job of refusing to yell and stomp her feet.

  After several aggravated trips from the love seat to the kitchen table and back, her jaw aching, her head throbbing, her body rebelling at the confines of the cabin, Sophie forced herself to stop, relax, unclench her fists, and breathe.

  Damn that Tyler Barnes.

  It would be a cold day… a frosty day… hell, the abominable snowman would buy ranch land in West Texas when she was wrong.

  What had happened between them didn’t serve to frighten her or to make her wonder what she’d been missing. Desire had been ruined for her a long time ago and it would take more than the bad wolf grin of a cocky cowboy to break her heart.

  She knew that. She was confident in that.

  But a reminder every so often would keep it in mind.

  Having regained enough of her strength to venture outside and sit on the front porch, she did just that. She spent the day there, watching the men work—all of the men, not just one. The bridge’s center support posts had survived the creek’s attack; it was the top timbers that had lost the battle to age and water and split loose from the tethering bolts.

  Sam and Lucas threw most of the debris onto the bank on Tyler’s side. He stacked it into the back of his truck while Gardner and Jud handled the pieces and the measurements for the new bridge on their side. The five men worked with the effortlessness of a team that had done it often, men who knew one another well enough to predict needs and moves.

  Not long after noon, Rico and Dan arrived bearing gifts of burgers and home fries and dessert from Ford’s Diner. After a thirty-minute break to refuel, the men were back at it. Rico and Dan stayed to help. Sophie brewed ice tea, kept fresh water supplied, and sliced both the coconut cream and lemon meringue pies for a late afternoon snack.

  Autumn dusk came early and Gardner and Jud set up floodlights in the back of Sam’s truck. By nine o’clock, Sam was able to drive the plow he used as a grader across the new bridge to haul Tyler’s truck free of the mud.

  After a round of short goodbyes and a reminder to Sophie that they’d be at the gate at 6:00 a.m., Rico and Dan headed out. Sam loaded the grader onto his trailer, doused the floodlights and shut them down, and he and Lucas followed. Gardner and Jud exited soon after, leaving Sophie with nothing but moonlight and Tyler and the strangest weak tingling in her limbs.

  Tyler opened his truck door and using the light from the cab, soaked a red rag with the rest of the water from Sophie’s supply. He tossed his cap into the passenger’s seat and cleaned his face first, then the back of his neck and his throat, finishing up by scrubbing the mud-splattered section of forearm exposed between work glove and sleeve.

  Sophie stood in the shadows and watched, Cowboy at her feet. She pulled her denim jacket tighter against the cold that frosted her breath and Tyler’s. His exhaustion was evident in the slow rise and fall of his lashes. And she had the strangest desire to take him home, run a hot bath to ease his sore muscles, then tuck him in and watch him sleep. Watch him wake in the morning.

  It was a feeling she didn’t know what to do with so she didn’t do anything at all.

  He downed the rest of the water in less than three gulps and backhanded the moisture from his mouth. Then he shook his head and blinked to clear h
is eyes, giving her a glimpse of the big bad wolf and the dimple cut like a shadow deep in his cheek.

  “You gonna stand there all night or are you gonna come over here and kiss me?”

  He didn’t have to ask her twice though she wasn’t sure the way she cuddled against him, nuzzled the salty skin of his neck, was what he had in mind. It didn’t matter. It was what she needed to do.

  He smelled like the great outdoors, like the autumn breeze, the tart tang of growth snapped loose by fresh rain and creek water. He smelled like Tyler, the sweet-times cowboy who’d loved her, the heartbreaker who was making it hard to say no.

  She opened her jacket and pressed close. He groaned, rubbed the top of her head with his cheek, splayed one hand on her back beneath her jacket, the other on her bottom and hauled her close. “I wish I had a home so I could take you home with me.”

  She had to give it to him. He had the most original come-on lines. “You have a home.”

  “I have a home but I also have Jud and Gardner and Harley and Austin and Ben and Cody and that’s just too many questions to answer.”

  She made a move to pull away but he was awfully strong. And his hand was drawing wonderfully heavy circles on her back. “I should be insulted.”

  “But you’re not because you know what I mean.”

  “I’m not because it’s a moot point. Even if you had your own home, I wouldn’t be going there with you.” There, that wasn’t so hard.

  “Well, I’ll have one soon. You’ll have to stop by and see it before you leave town.”

  This time when she pulled, he let her go. “I doubt I’ll have the time.”

  “Make the time. You gotta see this house. Gardner says it’s a belated graduation gift. I think he just wants me off of Camelot.”

  Sophie leaned back against the truck’s open door and whistled low. “A house? For a graduation present?”

  Hooking a boot heel on the running board, Tyler boosted himself into the driver’s seat. “What it really is, is a celebration of the fact that I turned down the big city and came home. I guess I stayed away long enough that Gardner got worried.”

  “You never thought about setting up your practice anyplace else?”

  He gave her a funny look. As if he didn’t understand the logic behind her question. “Why would I, with all I had waiting for me here?”

  “And what did you have waiting for you?” Sophie asked, thinking about her day of graduation, how she couldn’t wait to go. Anywhere. Away.

  “Friends. Family. Heck, most of my friends are like family.” He massaged a hand over the back of his neck. “You live in a place all your life it’s like you got kinfolk from one end of the county to the other.”

  Sophie glanced down at Cowboy, wondering—but only briefly—if she had kinfolk anywhere. “The longest I ever lived in one place was the four years I spent in college. And those four years were temporary.”

  “You and your mother moved a lot?”

  “Every six months as regular as clockwork. Not necessarily a new city each time, maybe just a new”—hovel, she wanted to say—“apartment.”

  “Did she have trouble settling down or just trouble holding a job?”

  “She never had a job. She had men. They gave her what she needed. Either a roof over her head or the money to provide one.” And one of them gave her what eventually killed her, Sophie thought bitterly.

  Tyler braced one elbow on the seat back, the other hand behind him, straightened, stretched, arched his back. Once he’d worked out the kinks, popped joints and vertebrae, he rolled his neck in an impressive stall tactic before stating, “Well, that makes sense then.”

  “What makes sense?” she warily asked.

  “Why you’re so determined to find your father.” He pressed a thumb to her tightly pursed lips. “I know. I’m analyzing again.”

  “Yeah, so stop it.”

  He stopped it. For a minute. Then arched a brow and dared her to deny the conclusion he’d drawn.

  She blew out a long breath that plumed in the cold and the light from the moon. “I want to find my father because he’s my only family. Simple as that.”

  Tyler’s smile was tender. “You never had a home, Sophie. You may be looking for your father but what you’re searching for is the stability you were denied as a child.”

  She’d been wrong. His smile wasn’t tender. It was patronizing. Know-it-all. And too perceptive. The reasons she did what she did were nobody’s business but her own. “I’m searching for my father. You’re searching for a wife. You may not like my reasons. I may not like your methods. But you know as well as I do that neither of us will change our mind due to the other’s opinion.”

  Tyler grew still, the moment uncomfortable, the interior light shining cold above his head. Finally he moved, lifting one foot and pressing the toe of his boot to a button on the truck’s metal frame to extinguish the cab light.

  From the darkest of shadows, he asked, “What’s wrong with my methods?”

  Sophie laid a hand on Cowboy’s head. “You mean, your grand scheme to sample the wares of the local bachelorettes?”

  Tyler blew out a disgusted puff of breath. “You make it sound like a game.”

  “Isn’t that what it is? Isn’t the entire seduction process one big roll of the dice? One deck of marked cards?”

  “One M used for a W?” He shifted on the seat “Samplin’ wares and home cookin’ is foreplay. Just like Scrabble.” He paused, added, “Well maybe not just like.”

  “What about friendship first? What about common interests and goals? Why does everything have to be about—”

  “Sex?” he filled in for her. “Because that’s what men and women do. They make love.”

  She turned her head sharply, stared into the black night, listened to the creek water run. “Or they call it that, anyway, to make it look pretty when what they’re really doing is trading, negotiating, or satisfying lust.”

  “Considering what you lived through with your mother, I can understand if the subject of sex makes you… uncomfortable. But you didn’t seem too hung up the other night. At least—”

  “Until I realized what we’d done. People who’ve known each other three hours can’t make love. It’s an impossibility.” Even though she’d called it that and knew that he had loved her well.

  She turned back then and wished she hadn’t. The moonlight shone directly on his face. His dimple had vanished along with his smile and the tiny lines that spread from his eyes in a sunburst of humor were now deep, solemn grooves in his skin.

  “So what do you call what we did?” he finally growled. “You say it wasn’t making love because we haven’t known each other long enough for that. And, if we’re working for accuracy here, you can’t call it sex because we didn’t do it.”

  He was angry. Or hurt. Probably a combination. His voice alone would have convinced her. She didn’t need the added proof of that look in his eyes telling her what he was feeling wasn’t a bruised ego as much as it was a bruised heart.

  Rats. She was going about this all wrong. But he’d started it with his unqualified psychoanalysis. And she’d finished it simply by not leaving well enough alone.

  She stood straight and used all her strength to face him. “What we did was… felt… great. But that’s all it was. Feeling. Physical feeling. There wasn’t any depth. Any… emotion. Or any rational thought.”

  “Sex doesn’t have to be rational. The only time it is rational is when breeding’s involved. Other than that I’d say it’s pretty damned irrational, in fact.”

  “And you think it’s okay for your body to take over your mind that way?”

  “I’d love for my body to take over my mind.” He turned forward in his seat, away from her. “Hell, I live for my body to take over my mind. In fact, a long hot night of mindless sex would do me a lot of good right now. But it’s just not happening these days.”

  His grousing and grumbling brought a surge of tenderness. “No new invitations for
chicken-fried steak?”

  “As a matter of fact, I have one for tonight.” He slammed the door, turned the key, gunned the engine. The dark window buzzed down, showing his face in sharp silhouette. “If I hurry home and shower, I’ll only be thirty minutes late. And I won’t even have to heat up my gravy.”

  She watched him spin out in his truck. Felt the rooster tail of mud splatter her shins. She knew she’d made her point. She’d won. She was right and he was wrong.

  So why didn’t this feel like a victory?

  SEVEN

  THE CLOUDY END OF NOVEMBER rolled into December’s chilly days. Sophie continued to see Tyler on a regular basis but only at the job site. He said nothing of their conversation that last night at the cabin, so she said nothing, either. Both tacitly agreed a working relationship was no place to hash out anything personal. And so their private moments remained buried.

  They talked of the everyday instead. Of the way Tyler’s eyes lit up with pleasure as the construction progressed. Like a kid with a Tinkertoy, Sophie teased him, before demanding to know why anyone would need the number of electrical outlets he had scattered around the surgery and examining rooms.

  He razzed her in return, asking if she planned to file a grievance, going on to explain the requirements of the specialized equipment he’d ordered to reduce his patients’ time in the hospital so he could be back in the field where he was needed.

  She asked about the progress on his house. He asked about her search for her father. When she told him that Cowboy was due for a rabies booster, he escorted them both to the clinic and on the way told her of Harley and Gardner’s new daughter, Dani.

  Except when he stopped by after hours, Sophie didn’t take a lot of time to visit. After all, he was paying her salary. She owed him a full working day. But even with minutes stolen here and there, their friendship couldn’t help but blossom.

  The roots of their relationship—the forced isolation, the heated kisses, the game of Scrabble—made for an intimately strong foundation. Like any formed in the midst of a disaster, she ruefully thought.