Pick Me Up. Samantha Hunter
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hat along with the same boots he’d been wearing the day before. Apparently boots were standard gear, even with a tux.
He didn’t see her yet, as she waited to cross the street. It was a little surreal here, she thought. The narrow streets buzzed with activity, like any town, but the air was hot and dry, and everywhere she looked sand, scrub and mountains surrounded them. It was a little like being at the bottom of a large, rocky bowl.
Back home the leaves would be turning, and people would be getting ready for Halloween. It was getting colder, and Thanksgiving was a month away. Here, it was like midsummer, though there were some cardboard jack-o’-lanterns and black cats hanging in windows around the town.
Walking slowly across the street, she felt her nerves kick in again, as they’d been doing on and off since she left the room. Last night had been a fantasy come true, a baptism by the best kind of fire into her new life. But what would today bring? She’d almost considered just leaving without saying goodbye—guys did it all the time, right? She wanted to preserve the night just as it was.
As she came closer, her mind’s eye snapped another picture she’d never forget—he was impossibly handsome. Just about any guy would look good in a tux—and she knew for sure he looked great out of his—but now he looked…real. Earthy, natural and strong, he was part of the land around him. He just looked so right, and so incredibly sexy sitting there.
He glanced up, catching her eye, smiling, and she smiled in return, images of everything they’d done together the night before coming back to her suddenly. As she approached the table, he stood and drew out her chair. She could barely say a clear good morning, she was so nervous. He didn’t move back to his own chair, but leaned down, brushing his lips across her ear.
“I hope you got enough sleep,” he whispered, nipping her lightly on the nape of her neck, sending jolts of desire through her before he straightened and returned to his own seat.
“I passed out, and I feel wonderful, if a little achy,” she answered, grinning as her nerves vanished. His touch was magic. What was it about being with this guy? The minute she was with him or when he touched her, it was like she morphed into this new, confident, sexual person.
Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Didn’t most people tend to get tongue-tied and awkward when they were actually with the person they desired? Not that she was complaining—it felt wonderful to flirt so easily, to feel so free with herself. “I hope you didn’t wait on breakfast for me.”
He laughed. “I had a little something, but it wasn’t very long ago. I’m used to being up early, eating more at the beginning of the day. Luckily the resort down the street runs a twenty-four hour shop, so I got some clothes, showered while you were still sleeping and came down. I’m only about an hour ahead of you. Hungry?”
She held his stare. “Oh yeah.”
“Keep looking at me like that, lady, and we’re heading back to the room.”
His tone was teasing, but his eyes told her he was serious. She smiled, blushing as she peered down at her menu.
“Everything looks good.”
“It is.”
She made a decision and closed her menu, sitting back in her chair as a waitress set a pot of coffee on the table and took their order.
“This place, this entire town is so incredible. I look around at these canyons, and can’t imagine who came down here and thought, hey, this would be a good place to put a restaurant.”
Brett laughed. “Well, a lot of it has to do with where the water is. There’s a supply here, good drainage at the base of the mountains, and people in this part of the country tend to gather where the water is. These spots have hosted all kinds of small ramshackle communities over time, homesteaders, mining, ranching, whatnot. Every now and then one of those communities sticks and becomes something more, like Soul Springs.”
“Are there actual springs?” She looked around—the place seemed so barren compared to the lush forests and farms of her home state.
“Underground ones, yes. A few years back one of them caved in, creating a pond of sorts where the kids like to go swimming. It’s just over that ridge.”
He pointed and she tried to imagine a pond in this environment. Water was the norm back home.
“I wouldn’t think there would be enough rain here to support ponds and rivers,” she commented.
“It comes, and when it does, it comes fast.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It can be. Anything and anyone in the way of a river rushing down a canyon can be washed away, and it happenes from time to time.”
“I’ve always heard there’s a lot of life in the desert, you just have to look for it.”
Then their breakfast arrived, steaming, aromatic plates stacked with bacon and pancakes for him, and a Mexican omelet for her.
“This is fantastic,” she said. He reached over, putting a few slices of his bacon on her plate. She started to protest, but it smelled wonderful, thicker and juicier than the store-bought stuff she was used to.
“That bacon is local and it’s the best you’ll have in your life. Don’t worry—you worked off enough calories last night to eat an entire pound of the stuff.”
She laughed at his humor, loving it. Wes would never have ordered bacon, and would absolutely never have joked about sex over breakfast. They ate in companionable silence. When the food was gone and the coffee pot near empty, Brett sat back. Lauren took a deep breath, soaking it all in. This was perfect, but it had to end. She had to be on her way. How did she say goodbye to a man who’d given her so much, but whom she barely knew?
“Lauren.”
“Hmm?” She toyed with the handle of her empty coffee cup, hoping he would take the lead and show her how to back away from their association gracefully. He had to have more experience with this kind of thing than she did, right?
“I was thinking we could spend a little more time together.”
She was expecting to be let down softly, not propositioned.
“Really?”
He moved his chair over closer, his hand covering hers. His fingers didn’t rest, but played over her knuckles in ways that sent sparks of desire shooting through her. She turned her hand over, palm up, wanting him to touch her there as well. He smiled.
“See that? The sheer chemistry we have—I don’t think we should let go of it just yet. I know last night was supposed to be a one-time thing, and I’m okay with that if you want to go on your way, but I was hoping we might make it last a little longer.”
“You want me to stay here for a while?” Her mind raced. She wasn’t sure that she could process what he was saying exactly, though she had to agree with him that they had intense chemistry. While she’d been ready to walk away—in theory—she was open to hearing his side of the argument.
“No, not here. On my ranch.”
“You want me to come home with you?” Her voice rose an octave, and he grinned, shaking his head as she blushed again, looking around to see if anyone heard.
“Sort of. My place is a working ranch. But to keep finances in the black, we also run a tourist business from October to March. It’s a luxury operation, you know, come to the desert but enjoy all the comforts of a nice hotel while experiencing real life on a ranch.”
“I always thought people had to live in the bunkhouse with the cowboys on dude ranches. Eat grub,” she teased.
“I don’t think the guys would care much for that. They aren’t too thrilled with the tourists sometimes, but it’s part of surviving in this economy and has led to some experiences we wouldn’t have had otherwise.”
“Such as?”