late-model pickup truck. “Would you like me to drive?”
Brooke shook her head. Who knew that the mechanics of a one-night stand were so tricky? “My things are in my car. I’ll meet you there. How about the Sherwood Hotel? Two streets over?”
“I know it.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling brutally young and stupid.
“For what?”
“I’m sorry you lost your wife.”
He cursed beneath his breath, rolled his shoulders and stared up at the moon, his profile starkly masculine. “You told me we weren’t going to use our real names,” he said. “That was your rule. Well, mine is no rehashing the past. This is sex, Mandy. Wild and exciting and temporary—if that’s not what you want, walk away.”
His entire body vibrated with tension. She honestly couldn’t tell if he was angry or sexually frustrated or both.
In that moment, she realized that her reasons for coming to Joplin no longer existed. She wasn’t here to flirt or to pick up a stranger or to have an anonymous tryst to prove to herself that she wasn’t boring.
Right here, right now...with her limbs shaking and her mouth dry and her nerves shot...the only thing she wanted was to undress this cowboy and to have him return the favor. Because this man, this beautiful, hauntingly complicated man, tugged at her heartstrings. She wanted to know him in every way there was to know a lover.
She only had one night. It would have to be enough.
Daringly, she reached out and put a hand on his arm. She could feel his taut, warm muscles through the soft cotton fabric of his shirt. “I don’t want to walk away, Cowboy. I’ll meet you at the hotel. Don’t make me wait.”
Austin Bradshaw couldn’t be entirely sure he wasn’t dreaming. This night was like nothing he had ever experienced. He glanced in his rearview mirror to make sure Mandy’s little navy Honda was still behind him. He chuckled to himself, because he had a hunch the car was a rental. His mystery woman struck him as the kind of person who would attend to the details of a plan with great care.
The desk clerk at the midrange hotel was neither curious nor particularly friendly. He swiped Austin’s credit card, handed over two keys and immediately returned his focus to whatever show he was watching on his laptop.
When Austin went back outside, he found Mandy leaning against the side of his pickup, an overnight case in her hand. She shifted from one foot to the other. “All set?”
He stared at her. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Quit asking me that,” she huffed. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
Releasing a slow, steady breath, he took the bag out of her death grip and set it on the ground. Then he cupped her head in his hands, tilted her face up to his and crushed his mouth over hers. He’d been in a state of arousal now for the better part of two hours. The faint scent of her perfume and the taste of her lips were imprinted on his brain.
He wanted her. Naked. Hungry. Begging. The more he thought about the night to come, the more he unraveled. At the rate they were going, there wasn’t going to be much of the night left.
Reluctantly, he let her go. “Hurry,” he said.
The hotel was three stories tall with indoor corridors and modern decor. At this point, Austin could have taken her up against the wall in the stairwell, but he resisted.
They rode the elevator to the top floor. Their room was at the end on the corner. His hand shook so badly it took him three tries to get the key in the door. He expected Mandy to give him grief about it, but she never said a word.
When they were finally inside, he closed the door carefully in deference to their fellow guests and leaned against it.
Mandy frowned. “Where’s your bag?”
“I don’t have one.”
“Why not?”
“That’s not really how a one-night stand works, honey.”
She looked mortified. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you’d be more comfortable if you had your bag. Women like to have their little bits and pieces with them.”
Mandy wrapped her arms around her waist and scanned the room like she was casing it for fire exits.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, reminding himself that patience was a virtue.
Her bottom lip trembled. “I just realized something. If tonight is your first time to have sex in six years, I can’t go through with this. That’s too much pressure for me. Honestly.”
He burst out laughing, and then laughed even harder at the look of indignation on her face. “Not to worry,” he said, wiping his cheeks and trying to get himself under control. His companion clearly didn’t see the humor in the situation. “I’ve had sex. Occasionally. And besides, if what you said were true, we’d never have made it out of the parking lot back at the bar. So no pressure, okay? Just you and me and all that wild excitement you wanted.”
Some of the tension drained from her body. “Oh. Well, that’s good. I guess.”
“Come here, honey.” He held out his hand.
She came to him willingly. But her gaze didn’t quite meet his, and her cheeks were flushed.
He unbuttoned the top button of her shirt. “Your skin is like cream. Beautiful and smooth.” Brushing the tops of her breasts with his fingertips, he smiled inwardly when she sighed.
“You’re still wearing your hat,” she said.
“And we’re still not in bed.”
“Close enough.” She reached up and took off his Stetson. After tossing it on the nearest chair, she massaged his head with both hands. “You shouldn’t cover up your hair. Women would kill for this color.”
He could tell she was more comfortable with him now. That was a very good thing, because he didn’t want a timid partner in bed. “Feel free to take off anything else that catches your fancy.”
“Very funny.” She toyed with his belt buckle. “Why aren’t you calling me Mandy?”
“Because you don’t look like a Mandy. It’s not your real name. So I’ll stick with honey. Unless you want to fess up and tell me the truth. It’s not like I’m going to stalk you.”
“I know that.” The snippy response was the tiniest bit sulky. And her bottom lip stuck out. It was so damned cute, he wanted to suck on it.
Gently, he pulled her shirt loose from the waistband of her jeans and slid his hands underneath. Her skin was warm and soft. So soft. He wanted to make this night good for her.
He unhooked her bra. It still bothered him that he didn’t know why she was here...not really. But his brain was losing the battle with the driving urge to give her what she wanted. What he wanted.
When he slipped her shirt from her shoulders and took her bra right along with it, she didn’t protest. The sight of her standing there, all white creamy skin and big gray eyes and rosy pink nipples, stole his breath and tightened his gut. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he said huskily, breathing it like a prayer.
He hadn’t lied to her. There had been a handful of women in six years. But those had been real one-night stands. Women whose names and faces he barely remembered. Divorcées. Widows hurting like he was. The sex had slaked a momentary physical need, but afterward, his grief had been just as deep, just as raw.
In a way, it had been easier not to have sex, because that way he didn’t have