Two To Wrangle (Hotel Rodeo #2)(5)

“What do you mean?”

“Whether it was guilt or plain stupidity, I didn’t hire a lawyer when Delaney filed for divorce, so she got half my ranch. I went on a real bender after that. One night I entered the arena tanked up on bourbon and Coke—and woke up the next morning in intensive care. That’s when Tom stepped in. He made me an offer to run the hotel since his manager had been hauled off in handcuffs. The Hotel Rodeo was my chance to get my shit back together, but it also allowed me to maintain connections with the people and the world I love. It’s been almost eight years now since Tom saved my life.” He swallowed hard, visibly fighting back the tears.

It was his look of utter desolation that did her in, drawing her to his side like an invisible string. As much as Monica had wanted to sever the ties that bound her heart to his, shared sorrow only made them tighter. Three days ago Ty had broken the news to her about Tom’s passing, encasing her in his strong arms until her tears were spent. Now it was her turn to repay the favor.

Wordlessly she pulled his head to her chest, holding him tight as he wept the silent tears he’d fought so hard to hold back. Alcohol mixed with grief had his body trembling. It was only a moment or two before he drew back, angrily palming his eyes. “Fuck this shit.”

“It’s okay, Ty. You had a lot to drink. Alcohol and grief make a bad combination. Go to bed,” she suggested. “You’ll feel a lot better after you sleep it off.”

His eyes met hers. One large hand palmed her face. “I’d feel a whole lot better if you came with me.”

“I’m not going to be your comfort f*ck.” She pushed him away. “If that’s what you’re looking for, you’ll have to find someone else.”

“Goddammit, Monica! I don’t want any other woman. Why can’t you understand that? I only want you.”

His words shocked her dumb. She couldn’t blame the booze this time. His focused eyes and clear voice were stone sober. She prayed he wouldn’t repeat himself. She was a goner if he did. His words were much like the apple brandy she craved—sweet, warm, and intoxicating, spreading fingers of heat deep in her belly.

“No, Ty,” she whispered back. “I can’t do this again.”

“Please, Monica. I don’t want to be alone tonight. I’ve never felt so goddamned alone as I do right now. I don’t like it. I don’t want it . . .” He reached out his hand to her. “Nothing has to happen between us . . . just stay with me.”

Her brain told her to turn and walk out the door, but her four-inch heels were frozen to the floor. She knew exactly what he felt because she felt it too.

In reality, neither of them had to spend the night alone. One phone call from Ty would have Cassie warming his bed. And Evan had made it equally clear he wanted to put their breakup behind them. Although she’d insisted on separate rooms, Evan had somehow managed to take the one adjacent to hers. He’d take advantage of any show of vulnerability—but Ty was her true weakness.

Her desire for him was like a rip current, and just as dangerous. All it took was a touch, a kiss to pull her in deep and sweep her away. She’d fought it tooth and nail, but she’d had it bad for the Oklahoma cowboy almost from the moment they’d met. She couldn’t deal with those feelings, so she’d run away from them, from him.

She still wasn’t over him. Only time and distance could ever achieve that, but there wasn’t much distance between them now. It lessened even more as she came toward him to accept his outstretched hand. Warm and strong, it closed around hers.

She didn’t resist when he pulled her onto his lap. Then his arms closed around her too. His body was warm, solid, and scented of bourbon and Ty. It wasn’t a bad mix actually. The scent of Ty seemed to go with almost anything.

“Thank you,” was all he said as he nuzzled her hair, his breath hot and moist.

They held each other for what seemed like hours before he stirred, waking her from a light doze. “Sugar, as much as I hate to do this, I have to get up for a bit. My right arm and both legs are asleep.” He shifted her off his lap. “How ’bout we move to the bed? It’d be a lot more comfortable for both of us.”

The look in his eyes stirred her insides, but she was quick to tamp down the desire. She withdrew a few inches, praying he wouldn’t try to kiss her. She didn’t know if she’d be able to resist him if he did. Forcing herself to rise, she brushed a hand tenderly over his bristled face.

He captured it, holding it against his warm skin. No words passed over his lips, but his hazel eyes implored her to stay. Tom’s passing had affected them both deeply, and that shared grief created a whole new level of intimacy she’d never expected to experience with him. Whether he knew it or not, Ty’s show of emotion had softened her toward him. Far too much.

“I’m sorry, Ty, but I haven’t changed my mind. The worst is over now. Since you’re feeling better, I need to go.”

He stood, placing both hands on her shoulders, his brows meeting in a frown. “Go where? To him?”

Shaking her head, Monica pulled her hand out of his grasp. It would be all too easy to tumble back into his bed, a fall that would only lead to the one she feared most.

“Good night, Ty. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She headed for the door before temptation made her stupid.