Patricia Thayer

Dylan's Last Dare


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Brenna between himself and the wall.

      She gasped and her arms immediately went around his waist. He tried to shift his weight, but the action only seemed to increase the friction between them, shooting heat throughout his body.

      “Dammit. Hold still,” he demanded.

      She froze. Only the sound of the TV in the background and their ragged breathing filled the room. Then her gaze raised to meet his and the startling color of her whiskey eyes mesmerized him. He couldn’t seem to manage his next breath, but he managed to inhale her arousing scent. Only inches from her tempting mouth, he could easily bend forward and take a taste of her. Suddenly realizing where his thoughts were heading, he gripped the door frame and hopped backward on his good leg.

      Now free, Brenna moved swiftly to retrieve his crutches. She helped slip them under his arms but didn’t move away.

      “You okay?” she asked.

      He managed a nod, wishing she would stop asking him that question.

      “Here, let me help you.” Her hands touched his arms.

      He jerked away. “I can do it,” he insisted, and planted the base of his crutches on the floor, then turned and headed to the privacy of his bedroom. There he could deal with a different kind of pain.

      Dylan didn’t come out of the bedroom for the next hour. He didn’t want to, at least not until he could find a way to fight his reaction to this woman. She was his therapist, she was going to have her hands on him…a lot. He groaned, thinking how much he wanted her touch…how he ached for it.

      What the hell was wrong with him? No doubt Brenna was pretty, but she had commitment written all over her. And he definitely wasn’t a forever kind of guy. Maybe in that respect he was like his old man. He had no desire to settle down with a wife and kids. He’d never known anyone who’d set a good example for him to follow.

      All his life he and Wyatt had been known as Sally Gentry’s bastard kids. Still, that hadn’t been as bad as when they were ten years old and Earl Keys came into their mother’s life. He’d convinced her that he’d make a good home for her and her boys. The truth was, Keys only wanted free laborers for his rough-stock business. Every summer both he and Wyatt had worked the rodeo circuit. During the school year, they’d lived on the man’s Arizona ranch, but the work hadn’t been any easier. Just as soon as the two had turned eighteen, they were gone.

      No, neither Randell nor Keys were the best examples of what a father should be. Dylan had no doubt he’d inherited a few bad genes. He’d traveled the circuit and he was damn good at whatever he tried, starting out calf roping with Wyatt. Later, he’d discovered the excitement of bull riding. And the money for his talent and all the endorsements hadn’t been bad, either. He was somebody. Then.

      He rubbed his leg. Now he was a cripple.

      A knock sounded on his bedroom door, then it opened. Brenna stepped just inside. She’d changed into a pair of jeans and blouse that had his juices flowing once again.

      “Are you hungry?” she asked. “Or you going to stay in here all night and pout?”

      “I’m not pouting,” he insisted. “I’m just tired.”

      She came farther into the room. “You’re in good shape. And your stamina has increased, so we can go longer, starting tomorrow.”

      “What if I don’t want to go longer?”

      She crossed her arms. “Look, Dylan, we agreed to a work schedule. If I let you slide now, you’ll never get back on your feet. If you’re worried about what happened with the cramps, we can work on that.”

      This woman was unbelievable. “I can handle the cramps.” It’s you I can’t seem to handle, he thought silently.

      “Good, because more than likely they’ll return. But I can help. There’s the whirlpool bath and I can give you a massage.”

      He tensed. Oh yeah, that was going to help a lot.

      Brenna just stood there for a few more moments.

      “Is there something else you want?” he asked.

      “Staying closed up in here isn’t good for you, Dylan. Not when you’re used to having people around.”

      “I don’t have a problem with it.”

      “As your therapist, I do. Your sister-in-law called and asked if you want to come up to the house for dinner.”

      Oh boy, the whole family all at once. He thought about Wyatt and the way he’d handled things earlier.

      “If you are worried about the children, I know little Kelly would love to get to know you better.”

      “I’m not good with kids.”

      “Kelly is female. No matter what her age, I bet you can have her charmed in minutes.” Brenna wrinkled her nose and Dylan knew she was trying to hide a smile.

      “If I’m so good with the ladies, how come it hasn’t worked on you?”

      Her easy laughter filled the room. “I don’t think you’ve been trying to charm me, only drive me away. Besides, I’m not a lady. I’m your therapist.”

      Ooh, she was definitely a lady. “Just out of curiosity, what would it take to get your…attention?”

      “More than sweet words…or a cocky smile. I have three brothers, and they’ve inherited a bit of the blarney along with their Irish genes.” She sobered. “Besides, I learned a long time ago to believe only half of what men say, and the other half is probably exaggerated.”

      “Whoa, someone must have done you wrong, lady.” He scooted to the edge of the bed and placed his legs on the floor. “Who was he? Want me to go beat him up?”

      A sadness transformed her face. “His name was Jason. And you can’t beat him up…he’s dead.” She started to leave, when Dylan reached out and grabbed her arm. She pulled away as tears formed in her eyes.

      “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” The urge to take her into his arms and hold her was overwhelming.

      “It’s okay.” She moved toward the door. “I guess if you aren’t going to your brother’s for dinner then I better fix you something.”

      He shook his head. “No, don’t cook, Brenna. We’re going to supper at Wyatt’s.”

      “I’ll help you get there,” she said, “but it would be better if you go to dinner on your own.”

      “Look, for the past week we’ve been living in pretty close quarters. And it’s been hard to stay out of each other’s business, much less their space. I’ve let you handle me at will, strap me in contraptions, and cause me considerable pain. Now, I’d say you owe me. Please, go with me.”

      She hesitated. “Okay, but don’t think you’re going to get your way all the time.”

      He wanted his way, all right. With her. “I’ll take what I can get.” He got to his feet. “Give me ten minutes to shower.” Using his crutches, he grabbed some underwear and a pair of jeans from the bureau drawer.

      “You be sure to use the bench in the tub,” she warned.

      “Or what? You’re coming in and joining me?” He grinned. “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.”

      He watched her blush, but she didn’t back down. “Be careful, remember I can hurt you.”

      He wasn’t thinking pain, only pleasure as he headed off to the shower, a cool one. And for the first time in a long while, it was good to feel alive.

      Fifteen minutes later they were both seated in one of the golf carts that belonged to the Mustang Valley Guest Ranch. With Brenna behind the wheel, they headed up to the main house. That was the easy part. The three steps to the porch were much more of a challenge