I sat up a little so I could move my hand down his thick muscular thigh, his calf, all the way down to his ankle and his foot, I gently trailed my fingers over his instep and then moved to the other foot, the ankle, the calf, the thigh back up to his pelvis, his beautiful torso, to his shoulder and then his other arm, all the way down to his hand. I squeezed each finger gently and then went back up his arm across the shoulder and back down his other arm to the hand near me.
I pulled the blankets over our bodies, entwined my fingers with his, and lay back down next to him on my back.
I would stay until he told me to leave.
I was sitting in a plush seat of the Boettcher Concert Hall in Denver, my fingers weaved around Talon’s. I massaged his thumb with mine. He looked at me and smiled. Smiled! A symphony orchestra was playing Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons . The music drifted toward me, the beauty and gentility of spring…lovely. And then summer. The birds singing through the fields, the sweet summer breezes, and then the violent lightning storm of cellos.
I opened my eyes.
Oh! I was still in bed next to Talon. The music was coming from his phone. He must have set the alarm. Still he lay, not moving, his arms haphazardly strewn over his forehead. Our fingers were still intertwined. Roger lay sleeping at his feet.
Now what? Should I wake him? Should I get my clothes on and leave?
That would be the easiest course of action. Put on my clothes quietly and sneak out before he woke.
But if I did that, he might never acknowledge that last night had taken place. So I gathered my courage, gulped, and gently nudged him.
He shot up in bed. “What?”
“Calm down. It’s just me.”
He turned to me, his eyes full of smoke. “What are you doing in here?”
“Don’t you remember? We fell asleep together after we…”
He raked his fingers through his disheveled hair. “Oh, shit.”
Not exactly what I’d wanted to hear. “You sweet-talker, you,” I said.
Talon grabbed the covers, tented them, and looked underneath. “Fuck.” He swung his legs over to the side of the bed, got up—God, his ass was great—found his pajama bottoms, and quickly put them on. “Listen. Last night never happened. You got that?”
Was he fucking kidding me? “I hate to tell you this, Talon, but last night most definitely did happen. And quite frankly, it was pretty awesome.”
He ambled across his bedroom, darting his gaze from here to there. Most likely he was purposely avoiding mine.
“Last night meant nothing. It was a mistake. I… You mean nothing to me. Nothing, you got that?”
His words cut through me like a dull butcher knife. He had wanted me. I had seen it in his eyes, felt it in his touch. Heck, he had said the words. It might’ve been a fuck, but it wasn’t just any fuck.
Maybe it hadn’t crossed the line over to lovemaking, but it was more than just a quickie. Something had happened between us last night, and goddamnit, he was not going to get away with this.
“I don’t believe you,” I said.
“Well, start believing. Last night meant nothing to me.”
I sniffed back some tears that threatened, rose, and stalked toward him, still naked. “You wanted me as much as I wanted you.”
He still refused to meet my gaze. “Wanting has nothing to do with anything.”
“Perhaps not, and maybe I don’t mean anything to you. If that’s the truth, I will accept it. But you have to convince me with something other than your harsh words, because your body sang an entirely different tune last night.”
He huffed, saying nothing. He continued stomping around his room, looking for God knew what.
I figured that was my exit cue, but damn it—no. If he wanted me to leave, he was going to tell me so. I walked back over to the bed, sat down, and then—crap. I had to work this morning. Ryan was expecting me over the winery. What the hell time was it anyway?
“What time is it?” I asked Talon.
“Six a.m.”
“Six a.m.? Are you crazy?” I didn’t have to be at work until nine. “What are you doing up so early?”
He turned, finally looking me in the eye. “In case you’ve failed to notice, I have a ranch to run. We start early around here. All this finery didn’t just appear. We’ve all worked really hard for it.”
Bam! He sure as hell knew how to make me feel insignificant. Again, tears threatened, and I tried hard to will them back.
To no avail. One trickled down my cheek. I got up and lowered my head to hide my tears from him. I grabbed my boxers and tank top, got them on as quickly as I could, nearly stumbling as I did so, and left the room without saying anything. I couldn’t say anything. I was too choked up. I walked briskly down the hallway, past the kitchen, and down the other hallway to my own bedroom, where I shut the door, threw myself on the bed, and cried into my pillow.