Glancing at Kenzie, he watched her gather her clothes, her back to him. No need to keep up appearances if she wasn’t paying attention, so he leaned more heavily against the wall. Gravy, but he was worn out. He hadn’t had this much sexbeforethe injury. Not that he was complaining. No way. The reality that he wore down so quickly was just discouraging. For what seemed like the hundredth time this morning, he mentally slapped himself for letting his physical conditioning get so far away from him.
I totally pulled the tied-to-the-tracks damsel in distress routine. Crap. I hate it when she’s right.
“What are you scowling at?”
Kenzie’s rich, sexy-as-sin voice coiled around him. If voices were ranked for seductive powers, she’d be in the ninety-ninth percentile. It just didn’t get better than her voice in the dark. He pulled a fleece saddle pad off the wall and settled it over his lap in an attempt to hide her effect on him. Miserable failure as far as the effort went.
She raised her brows in mock disbelief. “Eli’s not old enough to be hunting down little blue pills, so where’d you get one?”
“I don’t need one any more than he does.” Indignation, thy name is wounded male pride.
“You certainly don’t, but that?” She gestured to his reviving erection. “That’s not normal. Not even for you.”
He huffed out a short laugh. “What do you mean, not even for me?”
“Easy. You’re a total hound. You’ve been without sex for more than two months and you obviously needed to burn off the excess drive. But seriously? Three times in as many hours?” She grabbed her jacket and stuck her hand first down one sleeve and then the other before emerging with her bra. “That’s damned impressive for a twenty-six-year-old.”
“You’re not suggesting I’m too old to hold my own? And did you just pull your bra from your jacket sleeve?” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t remember putting it there.”
She chuckled, her hair hiding her expression as she bent forward at the waist and hooked the band behind her with deft movements. “Long story, but I took it off before you got here.”
“Why?”
“Like I said, long story.” She slipped into her body shirt and then retrieved her flannel.
Then what she said hit him. Not the little bits and pieces. No, it was the core of her original statement.You’re a total hound. You’ve been without sex for more than two months and you obviously needed to burn off the excess drive.
Did she really think so little of him? Worse, did she think what had happened between them was nothing more than a quick romp to burn off excess sexual energy? Something suspiciously akin to shame burned through him, and he didn’t like it. At all. Tugging at his collar, he let his gaze roam the room. He tried to focus on the condition of the other cowboys’ gear. He stared at the shelf with the hoof picks and short cans of hoof oil. He made a mental note to get more of the heavier oil on hand for the remainder of the winter. He considered the state of the room and the fact that it likely hadn’t been cleaned out since before his accident. But his mind, for all he tried to avoid it, kept winging back to her statement.
Parking his feet in the stirrups, he grabbed the saddle horn and pulled himself upright. His back and neck ached. The muscles along his spinal cord objected to his repositioning, screaming and shaking in exhausted protest.
Whatever.
What she’d said, the assumption she’d made about them, reignited the fear he’d been harboring since she showed up in his room early this morning. Part of him knew he was being irrational. Things had always been casual before, so why wouldn’t they be so now? But the other part of him, the part he rarely allowed to come out and play, was reeling at her dismissive attitude. Before he considered the consequences, before he weighed the pros and cons, he simply asked the thing he suddenly most wanted to know. “What’s this about, this whole sexcapade, this morning and again now?”
She twitched as if she’d been bitten by a horsefly.
His stomach plummeted. “Mackenzie?”
Focusing her gaze anywhere but on him, she worked to hastily button her shirt.
“You missed the first one.” That his proffered observation was so calm startled him. No, he’d never been one to lose his temper, to strike out when hurt. But this was a familiar hurt under unfamiliar circumstances. His mind swung open the doors of his past and suddenly he was four again and remembering his earliest experience with rejection. His father had refused to teach Ty to ride because he was too “flaky.” The old man had insisted Ty keep his feet on the ground until his head was out of the clouds and he learned to be more practical where the animals were concerned. He’d deemed Ty’s affection a weakness. He’d rejected Ty’s love.
So Eli had taught him to ride. His old man had instead taught him not to overinvest in emotion that could be used against him.
He’d done just that, though, by letting Kenzie know how much Gizmo meant to him. He’d created and exposed his own Achilles’ heel when he’d begun to wonder if there could be something more between him and the woman across from him.
And she’d used that weakness to her advantage. She’d exploited him when he was down and out. She’d positioned herself perfectly to get her hands on the only thing he’d guarded more carefully than his heart.
His horse.
It was a stupid thought to fixate on, but his mind dogged it like a border collie on a belligerent steer, herding it closer and closer until Ty remembered his dad’s exact pitch and tone, his articulated disappointment in the dreamer Ty had been and the voiced expectation of Ty that really boiled down to his dad having no expectation at all. It had been the first time Ty had realized that who he was might not be good enough.
While his dad was long gone, he experienced the same realization now, that he wasn’t good enough for this woman. His value came from what he possessed, not who he was.
Floorboards creaked as Kenzie shifted foot to foot, anxiety bleeding from her like a grievous wound.
“Answer me,” he said quietly, all traces of the dreamer in him gone.