Who I Am With You Part 4

"It's your parents," he said before laughing. "And your brothers, and they don't look too pleased. I'm thinking they finally figured out the two of us are here together."

Before he could say anything further, the door flew open. Hawk strode in, looking as if he expected to find the two of them in a steamy embrace.

"Travis," Hawk said in greeting, but it seemed to be more of a warning than a h.e.l.lo.

As much as her overbearing family drove her nuts sometimes, she loved them dearly, and loved how protective they were of her. If only she could choose what they were protective about, and what they left her alone to live her life for . . .

"Hawk!" she said as she stood up and rushed toward him. It had only been a week since she'd seen him, but time seemed to stand still in this little cabin in the woods.

"Taylor." He met her halfway and pulled her against him for a hug before drawing back and a.s.sessing her. "How are you feeling? Have you had any problems? Are you ready to come back home?" He was firing the questions off too fast for her to answer, so she waited for him to finish.

"I'm feeling fine, Hawk, and no, I haven't had problems, and I a.s.sure you that you will know immediately when I'm ready to come back to town." She emphasized the last word, because when she did come back from the woods, she doubted she'd be going back to her parents' home. She was more than ready to have her own place again if she was to be stuck in Montana for any length of time.

"Baby girl, I've been trying to give you your s.p.a.ce, but your father and I figured you'd be running low on supplies, so we wanted to surprise you," Maggie said as she hugged Taylor next before pa.s.sing her to her father.

"You were thinking right. I just ate the last chocolate bar last night," Taylor said. That was a true emergency, after all.

"I was thinking more real food, but I did include chocolate," Maggie said with a laugh.

"So what in the h.e.l.l are you doing shacking up with my baby sister?"

The room went silent and everyone froze as Taylor turned to find her brother-Travis's best friend-facing off with him.

"I'm not shacking up with your sister, Bryson-though I suppose you could say I'm cabining up with her, if not in the way you mean. And it's great to see you, too," Travis said, not even slightly ruffled.

"I thought you wanted peace and quiet," Bryson growled.

"I did want that, and you promised it to me, but apparently your mother thought it would be a good idea for Taylor to get some peace and quiet as well."

"And what have the two of you been doing?" Bryson asked, hands on his hips. "The cabin only has one room."

Taylor saw that her brother was also carrying a gun. This could end badly.

"Are you accusing me of something, Bryson?" Travis asked in an almost deadly calm that sent a shiver down Taylor's spine. It was time to step in.

"This is none of your d.a.m.n business, Bryson," she said, and Bryson turned her way. "If you have a problem or want to make accusations, then maybe you should fire your questions at me."

"I don't need you to step in for me," Travis said, still obviously unhappy with Bryson's att.i.tude.

"We'll talk later," Taylor said, sending him a look that had shut up more than one man during her years on the circuit.

"Yeah, we will." Another shiver pa.s.sed down her spine. This one wasn't fear, though.

Turning away from Travis before the two of them combusted, she faced Bryson again. Finally, his hands dropped and he walked up to her. "I'm sorry, sis. I'm just worried about you," he said and gave her a hug.

"It's okay to worry about me, but you don't have to come in here acting like an a.s.s in the process." But she easily accepted his apologetic hug and gave him a big squeeze in return. "And though it's none of your business, we've been taking turns with the room. I was quite unhappy to find Travis here at first, and I wanted him to leave, but he's been . . . helpful, and not bad company."

"What? You're making her sleep on the couch?" Bryson said as he turned toward Travis.

Before Travis could reply, she spoke. "That also is none of your business."

She stared sternly at her brother for several long seconds while he seemed to be gathering his wits. Finally, he gave her a sheepish grin before pulling her close to his side.

"Okay. I'll leave you alone, but just know that I can be here in less than an hour if Travis gets out of line," he told her, turning his head and sending Travis a look only guys could read.

"Deal," she said, sending her own little smirk Travis's way.

And just like that, the tension was defused. They all made a couple of trips out to her parents' gigantic SUV and brought in all the new supplies her mother had bought.

"Are you thinking I'll be out here for the next decade, Mom?" Taylor asked with a laugh as she looked at the bags now covering the counter and kitchen floor.

"I wasn't sure what you'd need," Maggie said. Her mother had always been a nurturer to anyone who needed help.

"I really appreciate it," Taylor said. "I'll appreciate it a lot more if you help me put it away." Otherwise it would take all night to get the supplies organized.

The family spent a pleasant afternoon visiting, and when the sun began to set, Travis lit a small fire in the outdoor pit. Taylor curled her legs beneath her and roasted a marshmallow to perfection before slapping it onto a graham cracker with chocolate. An absolutely perfect s'more.

"So flipping good," she said with a sigh, making her brothers laugh.

Travis, Hawk, and Bryson were on the other side of the fire, enjoying the fragrant cigars Hawk had brought along, and her parents were sitting together on a large log with notches for seats.

Soon the conversation quieted, and Taylor found her eyes drifting closed. She was sound asleep when her parents and brothers packed themselves into the SUV and promised Travis they'd return soon.

She woke up only partially, just enough to think it all a dream, when Travis lifted her into his arms, carried her inside, and laid her on the bed. After removing her shoes and sweatshirt, he covered her up and headed for the door.

Her last sigh was his name on her lips.

Travis jerked straight up on the ridiculously uncomfortable couch, instantly awake and alert as he tried to focus his eyes in the dark room.

Only shadows danced on the walls from the dying embers in the fireplace, but it was enough light for him to get his bearings and see that no silhouettes, either human or animal, were moving around the cabin. What had woken him?

A groan of pain coming from the bedroom answered his unspoken question. Instantly on his feet, grabbing the gun he kept beneath the couch, he moved swiftly to Taylor's room and pushed open the door, the bathroom light casting a soft glow over her grimacing face as she held her knee to her chest and twisted around on the bed.

"Taylor, what is it?" he asked, instantly putting the gun down on the nightstand and carefully sitting on the edge of the bed as he reached out a hand for her.

"It's nothing," she said shakily.

"I can't help you if I don't know what the problem is."

"My leg," she groaned. Her body tensed and sweat broke out on her head.

"What happened?" He reached for the leg she was holding, and tried to see whether there was an open wound. He couldn't find anything, but the light was dim.

"It's an old injury," she replied, tears now falling down her face as she writhed in pain before him.

"What can I do?"

"Nothing. I get these muscle spasms in my thigh, and when they hit, they're pure h.e.l.l, but I just have to suffer through it." She twisted again, moaning, and this time, her body fell against his. She was in too much pain to scoot away.

"What if I ma.s.sage it?"

The thought of doing exactly that was making him break out in a sweat, but he could hardly just leave her like this. Touching her leg would ensure that he wouldn't get back to sleep tonight, but he'd endure anything to ease her pain.

"The doctor said that would help, but I can't do it . . ."

He unclasped her clenched fingers from her knee and ran his hands along her thighs until he felt a huge knot.

"d.a.m.n, Taylor! This feels terrible," he gasped.

"I've dealt with it for the past two years. I'll deal with it tonight."

But she didn't even have the energy to swat away his hands. So, taking great care not to hurt her if at all possible, he began kneading the flesh of her naked thigh.

What in the h.e.l.l was she wearing? It seemed to be about the tiniest pair of panties the stores could possibly sell. Dammit. That was the last thing he should be focusing on, and he refused to think about the light skin of her stomach peeking at him above those panties, where her T-shirt had ridden up.

After a few moments, he increased the pressure of his fingers and ma.s.saged her inner thigh. Another moan escaped her lips, but this one was a mixture of pain and relief. He was pretty sure he was helping her, because she wasn't twisting as violently.

He moved his hands downward, and she protested. "No. Please. Where you were!"

Going back to the place he'd been kneading, a place far too close to her barely concealed core, he continued ma.s.saging, finally feeling the hard knot begin to relax under his sure fingers.

Travis didn't know how long he ministered to her, but pretty soon she was lying there still, her cries and moans silenced and the muscle in her thigh back to normal. He continued rubbing, unsure whether it would tense again if he stopped.

She was no longer sweating, but he could feel the temperature in the room rising the longer he sat on the bed, the longer he touched her smooth skin. This was more torture than he could ever remember feeling.

"Thank you, Travis. I . . . It usually lasts a long time," Taylor whispered, and he figured that was his cue to stop.

But for some reason, his fingers wouldn't lift from her skin. Moving them downward, he rubbed along her lower thigh, then down her calf, and he finally captured a foot, pushing his thumbs against her tender arch, eliciting another moan of pleasure from her beautiful mouth.

"I don't hurt there," she said, but there was no protest in her voice.

Travis said nothing as he moved to the other foot and took a few minutes to rub along the arch before working his way up her calf and finally reaching her other thigh, making her breath hitch and her body begin to move again on the bed-though this time there was no pain involved. No pain for her, at least.

His hands now gave their attention to the curve of her waist and then the sides of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as he leaned over her. He was so unbelievably hot right then that he didn't know whether he had enough control to stop touching her.

"Open your eyes, Taylor."

Slowly, sweetly, achingly, her eyes opened, and the desire he saw reflected in their deep blue depths had him catching his breath.

"I'm going to kiss you now." That was all the warning he gave before he bent forward and took her lips, his tongue tracing the edges before sliding inside and possessing her the way he'd been longing to from the moment he'd seen her drive away on that dark Montana road.

Careful not to push against her still-sore body, he lay next to her and pressed her against him with one hand so he could feel her perfect curves. Deepening the kiss, he swallowed the moan she released into his mouth before his other hand moved up along her side and slid around to cup one breast.

The feel of her pebbled nipple against his palm had his arousal pulsing. He pressed his hips against hers, the need to take her so consuming that he could think of absolutely nothing else. And why not? Would it really be so bad to satisfy them both?

When her hands came up and sifted through his hair, he nearly lost the battle raging within him. He knew he had to back off, to do the honorable thing. She'd been in pain, and he'd come in to help her. It wasn't an excuse to satisfy himself, even if she needed it just as much as he did.

"Tell me you want to make love, Taylor." If she told him she wanted him, then all bets were off. He'd have permission. He wouldn't just be taking from her. Leaning back only slightly, he cupped her breast, his fingers gliding across her nipple, making her body shudder.

He nibbled on her bottom lip as he waited to hear the words he desperately wanted. And he got . . . nothing. No words at all. He leaned back, his body screaming at him to continue what he'd been doing.

Her eyes were closed, her breathing heavy, her hips still pressed tightly against his. There was no doubt that she could feel exactly what she was doing to him. The question was whether she cared to do anything about it.

"Taylor." He waited for her eyes to open, and it seemed to take forever, but finally, those beautiful eyes focused on his, and after a few more heartbeats, they began to clear, and now it was Travis who was in pain, because he knew the answer before she spoke.

"This isn't a good idea, Travis."

"Why?" he demanded. If she wanted to stop, then he at least deserved to know why.

"I'm not ready for this," she said, her voice almost broken.

At the distress in her eyes, Travis lost all the fight that he'd been about to give. He ran his hand along the side of her face, cupping her beautiful skin as he looked into her eyes.

"Then I'll wait until you are."

Her eyes widened, but he decided it was a good time to leave-now, before he couldn't. Leaning down, he caressed her lips with his before letting her go, and he slipped from the room, closing the door behind him.

He tried to ignore the fact that his legs felt like jelly, and that this night wasn't going to be much fun, to put it mildly. It was only 3 a.m., but he was officially up for the day, in more than one sense of the word. Throwing on his jogging pants-thankfully, no one could see the tent he'd made in them-he grabbed a flashlight and his gun and stepped outside.

He planned to run until exhaustion was the only thing on his mind. But after two hours of punishing his body almost to the point of no return, he knew nothing was going to get Taylor from his mind.

Taylor looked around anxiously as she came out of the bedroom. Whew! No Travis. She'd behaved badly the night before. They'd both wanted to make love, but she'd been so afraid. That was her only excuse. He wasn't the man she'd been imagining him to be for the last few years.

If he were a monster, this would be so much easier. But he was kind and giving, and he made her laugh more than anyone else ever had. So why was she so reluctant to fall back into bed with him? The answer was profoundly painful to admit to herself. It was because she was in love with him, and if for some reason this didn't work out, she feared she'd never trust her heart again.

Was that a good enough excuse to keep her distance? Right now, she really didn't have all the answers. Maybe she could do something kind for him. He'd been cooking most of the meals since they'd both ended up at the cabin-she mostly handled sandwiches-and though she wasn't the greatest of cooks, she could surprise him with breakfast.

He was most likely out running, or gathering more firewood, more things she hadn't been doing. Taylor realized that if she'd been up at this cabin all by herself, she never would have lasted. It was time to fight this inner battle and get back to the woman she normally was.

Yes. Breakfast it was. It wouldn't be nearly as good as what Travis made, but that was okay. It was the thought that counted, right? Right! Pulling out one of the cooking magazines her mother had conveniently left, she flipped to a page showing breakfast biscuits and an egg dish she needed to bake.

Okay, she could do this!

She pulled out eggs, bacon, onions, and the ingredients for the biscuits. Her mother made the most mouthwatering ones, so she'd do her best. If she wasn't careful with her cooking, instead of offering him an olive branch, she'd end up having to rush him into the ER to have his stomach pumped.

Taylor found herself humming as she combined the eggs with milk and seasonings in a bowl, and then poured the mixture into a pan and slipped it into the oven. Laying out the bacon in a pan, she enjoyed the sound of sizzling as she mixed the batter for the drop biscuits just like the magazine was telling her. Sure, the batter looked a bit lumpy, but she laid out the biscuits on the pan and put it into the oven, too, before flipping the bacon.

When she was finished with the meal, the egg mixture looked a little rubbery, the biscuits a bit too brown, and the bacon overly crisp, but she was more than proud of herself. Now, all she had to do was wait for Travis.

When the door opened a few minutes later and his eyes zeroed in on her, she gave him a hopeful smile, praying he wasn't going to be angry with her. Yes, she had the right to refuse his advances, but they were in this small cabin together, and the last thing she wanted was to keep arguing with him.

"What's that smell, Taylor?"

She couldn't tell from his tone whether he considered the smell good or bad.

"I made breakfast," she said, shifting on her feet.

He absolutely gaped at her, and it took him a moment to speak. "It smells great."