The Bachelor’s Surrender (13 page)

She extended the bright yellow piece of paper toward Rafe, but he couldn’t bring himself to take it. Bold black print announced the annual Cody Nite Rodeo, currently exhibiting nightly events through August. Too many memories assailed him, and not many were pleasant ones. Tangled up with his last rodeo performance was also the time he’d spent with his father at the Cody Rodeo when Rafe had been just a youth.

No, the memories weren’t ones he cared to resurrect.

“Why don’t you and James take Chad?” Rafe suggested abruptly.

Kristin glanced from Rafe, to Lauren, her expression uncertain. “Rafe, I think you should go with him—”

“No, Kristin.” His tone was gruff and uncompromising. Too late, he noticed Lauren watching him. Too late, he realized his hand absently rubbed his injured thigh through his jeans.

Kristin sighed, but didn’t push the issue, though Rafe knew his sister was very aware of the source of his refusal. “Fine.”

Privy to the conversation, Chad’s shoulders sagged in obvious disappointment, but he accepted the decision without a complaint.

James watched the boy’s reaction and something warm and caring entered his gaze. “Would you mind if Kristin and I took Chad tomorrow afternoon to the Cody Rodeo?” he asked Lauren. “You could come along, too, if you’d like.”

Lauren cupped Chad’s chin in her palm and smiled into the boy’s expectant face. “You know what, I think it would be wonderful if the two of you took Chad to the rodeo, though I think I’ll stay behind and keep Rafe company.”

Rafe opened his mouth to refute that last comment, but in the end decided against issuing an argument he more than likely wouldn’t win, anyway.

“I’ll see if Sally and her husband can come along, too, so Chad can pal around with Randy,” Kristin suggested, which earned an excited “Yeah” from Chad.

While his sister, James, and Lauren worked out the details for tomorrow’s adventure, Rafe excused himself and entered the feed store, trying not to think of all the possibilities of spending the day alone with Lauren.

Lauren glanced over the top of her book toward the stables, hoping to catch a glimpse of Rafe. Kristin and James had arrived over two hours ago to pick up Chad and take him to the rodeo, and she’d spent that time sitting on the front porch reading her novel, debating whether or not to go and see what Rafe was up to, or leave him alone.

Ever since yesterday’s incident at the feed store he’d grown moody and distant again. Unapproachable, but not as rude as he’d once been. There was a specific reason why he’d refused to take Chad to the Cody Nite Rodeo, and Lauren couldn’t help but mull over those reasons.

Giving him time alone to brood was probably the smartest thing, but Lauren had never been one to play it safe or ignore a challenge. Rafe, with all his dark secrets and his gruff attitude, intrigued her, mainly because she knew the man harbored a wealth of hurt and guilt that would destroy him if he didn’t eventually deal with his personal pain. She’d seen too many glimpses of a gentler side to Rafe to believe he wasn’t anything but a good, honest man who deserved to be happy.

She wanted to see him happy, and tried not to analyze too deeply why that seemed so important to her.

Giving up on her book for a better idea, she headed inside the house. In the kitchen, she fixed a couple of sandwiches and gathered together a cluster of grapes and a handful of the homemade cookies Kristin had sent home with them Sunday evening. Finding a small carton in the pantry, she packed her goods, added two cold cans of soda, and tucked the box beneath her arm as she headed toward the stables.

She found Rafe in the back office, head bent over a journal opened on his desk, lost in the sea of paperwork spread out around him. His dark hair fell over his brow, and he’d rolled up the sleeves of his chambray shirt to reveal strong, tanned forearms. Though he was deep in concentration, he seemed at ease in this environment, relaxed even . . . and incredibly sexy.

She could have watched him all afternoon, just like this—could have let the pleasant warmth spilling through her veins, and the slow, delicious awakening of desire unfurling within her go on, and on . . .

Shaking off those sensations before they got her into trouble, she knocked on the door frame. He glanced up, something between surprise and that frustrating reserve of his passing over his features. He didn’t scowl, which she took as an encouraging sign that her presence wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

She stepped into his office, too aware of his gaze lingering on her bare legs. She’d worn shorts and a tank top today, and though there was nothing revealing about either article of clothing, the heat in his eyes seemed to singe right through the material.

She shifted on her sandaled feet and gestured toward the box holding a small feast. “Since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast, I thought you might be hungry.”

Leaning back in his chair, he folded his hands over his flat belly, his initial aloofness ebbing into something far more seductive. “Yeah, I seemed to have developed a sudden appetite,” he murmured.

A distinct tingle shot through her at his double entendre. “Ahh, good. Got a blanket?” She nearly cringed—when had their conversation taken on such a sexual slant?

“A blanket?” Male interest glimmered in his eyes. “What for?”

“I was thinking we could spread it out beneath the tree right outside the stables and eat there.”

He didn’t move, just kept her trapped within his stormy, reckless gaze. “Why can’t we just eat in my office?”

“Because it’s too
stuffy
in here,” she said meaningfully.

The corners of his mouth twitched with a hint of humor, but he didn’t follow through with that teasing promise. He never did.

She sighed, a long drawn out sound bordering on impatience. “Come on, Rafe. It’s a gorgeous day, and I’m sure you could use the break from all this tedious paperwork.”

He said nothing, though she could sense him wavering between accepting her invitation, or remaining in the solitude of his office.

“Don’t make me beg for your company, Dalton.”

“No, I don’t suppose that would be a pretty sight.” He stood and rounded his desk. “You win. Outside it is.”

A few minutes later they were sitting beneath a shade tree on an old, soft blanket Rafe had retrieved from a shelf in the tack room. She sat with her legs crossed, while Rafe opted to stretch his out. A pleasant breeze blew, fluttering the ends of her ponytail along her neck.

Withdrawing the meal she’d made, she handed him two ham and cheese sandwiches, garnished with lettuce and tomatoes. He unwrapped the first one and took a big bite, chewing heartily.

Enjoying Rafe’s ravenous appetite, Lauren popped open both of their cans of soda and set them in the empty box so they wouldn’t topple over. Then she reached for her own sandwich and pulled off the plastic wrap.

“So, why didn’t you want to go to the Cody Rodeo today?” she asked conversationally, then filled her mouth with succulent ham and tangy cheese.

His robust chewing stopped, and his gaze gleamed with instant suspicion. She’d been prepared for hostility for her blatant prying, yet it never materialized. It amazed her how much he’d changed from the first day she’d meet him, and the potential he had to be the kind of charming man a woman could fall real hard for, as he’d been before his accident.

Shaking his head in mock disgust, he took a drink of his soda to wash down the bite in his mouth. “I should have guessed there was an ulterior motive to you bringing me food and suggesting this cozy picnic.”

She didn’t deny his accusation. “You can’t blame me for wondering.”

He tried real hard to look irritated, but fell short of the mark. “You don’t leave anything alone, do you?”

“I like solving puzzles, and you, Rafe Dalton, are one big mystery.” She opened the bag of grapes and popped one into her mouth. “Now tell me why.”

He polished off his first sandwich and shrugged, the movement stiffer than the nonchalant gesture it should have been. “All that walking would have taken a toll on my leg.”

A slow, knowing smile claimed her mouth. “Liar.”

His lips flattened in exasperation. He obviously hadn’t expected her to call him on his convenient excuse.

“Tell me the truth, Rafe,” she encouraged softly. “Please?”

“Why does this matter so much to you?”

Because I care and I want to know everything about you—who you were, and why you’ve become the man you are.
“I just think if you talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you, you might feel better.”

He cast her a dubious look.

“It seems to work for the kids I deal with.”

A caustic sound erupted from his throat. “I’m a grown man, Lauren.”

“Who carries a lot of blame and guilt for something that isn’t necessarily your fault,” she replied pointedly. “Same difference.”

He didn’t reply, just averted his gaze to something in the distant pasture, his entire body tense. Calmly, she finished her sandwich, waiting for him to direct their conversation. More than anything, she wanted this man to open up and trust her with his darkest secrets, but she refused to pressure him further. The next move would be up to him.

Her patience was rewarded. Very quietly, he said, “Not only haven’t I been to a rodeo since my accident, the Cody Rodeo holds a lot of memories for me.”

“Good memories?”

“Mixed in with some bad,” he admitted, plucking a few grapes from their stem and tossing them into his mouth.

When he didn’t elaborate, she prompted him. “Tell me.”

“The Cody Rodeo is where I first competed as a young boy, or rather, where my father pushed me to compete when I really wasn’t ready to,” he finally said. “My dad rode, too, except he was never good enough to claim the championship, so that became his obsession with me.”

Drawing her knees up in front of her, she wrapped her arms around her legs. “It was up to you to live his dream for him?”

“Yep. And the thing was, I
wanted
to please my father, and since it seemed the only way I could do that was to compete and win, claiming the PRCA title became my sole obsession, too. A very destructive one.” His tone dripped self-disgust.

Lauren handed Rafe a chocolate chip cookie, which he accepted, then took one for herself. “What did your mother have to say about you competing?”

“She was a quiet woman and didn’t say much of anything, and never questioned my father’s decisions.” He glanced at her, his eyes reflecting shadows of pain and sorrow. “She died when I was twelve, which was a very difficult time for Kristin and I, especially when my father didn’t take the time to properly mourn my mother’s passing. He was too intent on competing, and winning, and his son and daughter’s needs took second place to that obsession. I did the best I could with raising Kristin, but my father didn’t make it easy.”

“You were just a kid yourself.”

His features twisted with resentment. “Somebody had to be there for Kristin, because my father sure as hell wasn’t.”

So many responsibilities for someone so young, she thought. “And so you kept on competing?”

“Yeah, my father kept on pushing and I kept on competing, but I didn’t win the PRCA title until after my father died of a heart attack.” He reached for another cookie and reclined on his side on the blanket, looking up at her. “How’s that for irony?”

She offered him a gentle smile, hoping to offset the bitterness suddenly swirling in the air between them. “Your championship title is still something to be proud of.”

“You think so?” He held her gaze for a long second, seemingly contemplating his own self-worth. “I paid a steep price for that title, and nearly killed myself and another rider. That’s hardly something to be proud of.” He scrubbed an agitated hand through his thick hair and gave a self-depreciating laugh. “I inherited those same demanding, aggressive qualities I came to despise in my own father. I hated what my old man did to me, but his lessons were so ingrained, I pressured a kid to get on a deadly bull before he was ready.”

Lauren’s throat tightened, and for once, she felt at a loss for words to soothe such deep pain.

With a long, harsh sigh, he rolled to his back, folded his hands beneath his head, and stared up at the few clouds dotting the blue sky. “And you know what the worst part is? I don’t trust myself with kids anymore, and I can only imagine what kind of father I’d be.” His big body shuddered, and he squeezed his eyes shut, as if to block the awful thought. “And dammit, I’m no hero!” he muttered gruffly.

Lauren hugged her legs tighter to her chest, hurting for Rafe, way deep inside, for the lonely boy he’d been, and the cynical man he’d become. She ached to tell him he’d be a kind, caring father, but knew he’d never believe her. But she could make him forget all the burdens he carried, just for a little while, and gave into the impulse to lean over and kiss him, very softly on his lips.

His eyes opened, and before she could back away, his hand reached out and curled around the back of her neck, keeping her face inches from his. “What was that for?” His voice was low and raspy, and very curious.

She touched her tongue to her bottom lip, suddenly nervous. “I like the way kissing you makes me feel. Warm. Excited. Eager for more.” Her reckless honesty, and the male heat in his eyes, caused her face to flush, but she didn’t hold back. “Do you feel something, too?”