Adam

  Kyle Malory entered, followed by his big friend Jack. Kyle saw Bailey, hesitated, but stopped next to the barstool where she sat and ordered a beer from Christina.

  “Hey, Kyle,” Bailey said, trying to sound friendly. “How’s Ray?”

  Kyle shrugged, not looking at her. “He’s fine,” he said, also pretending to be friendly. “Whining and moaning, but fine. Doc says he’s out of danger and just needs to heal a little.”

  “I’ve been fixing him chicken soup,” Christina said brightly as she drew a beer from the tap for Kyle. “Nature’s perfect cure.”

  Her smile was too brittle. Christina had been stiff, touchy, and unhappy since the accident. Bailey had seen that, but she had the feeling that right now was not a good time to push her sister. Christina would tell her what was up when she was ready.

  Kyle didn’t appear to notice. He took his beer and turned to Bailey as Christina moved to serve Jack.

  “I heard about you and Adam,” he said. “I couldn’t not hear about it. At least twenty people stopped me this morning and told me. But don’t worry. I know when to step out of the way.” Kyle paused, giving her a frown. “Tell me the truth, though—were you with him when you were going out with me?”

  “No.” Bailey frowned at him. “I told you, I’d never do that.” Why was he so quick to believe she’d cheat on him, when she’d been cheated on herself? Adam had been worried about it too at first. They all should realize she’d be the last person do such a thing.

  Fear, she decided. We’re all so afraid of betrayal.

  “Okay.” Kyle gave her a conceding look. “But when he runs back to L.A. and his movie chicks …” He tailed off, as though reconsidering what he’d been about to say. His grin broke through. “Give me a call.”

  “Sure, Kyle.”

  Kyle turned away … to find Adam standing directly behind him.

  **

  “Adam,” Kyle said, giving him a faint nod.

  Kyle’s voice was neutral, not threatening, but his eyes told a different story. He was furious at Adam, but Adam couldn’t be paid to care.

  “Heard your brother was on the mend,” Adam said, also playing it cool. “That’s good.”

  “Yeah, he’ll be up in no time.”

  “Accidents are tough,” Adam said. “Give him my best.”

  “Sure.” Kyle looked him up and down, then a spark lit his eyes. “You gonna be ready to eat dirt?”

  Adam waited for the clamor of the wreck, the hot flames of the fire, to fill his head, as Kyle challenged him. He felt a quiet warmth at his shoulder instead, as though Dawson stood beside him, watching over him.

  “I’m ready to feed it to you,” Adam said. “What did you have in mind?”

  Jack had closed in behind Kyle, and Carter and Tyler came to stand near Adam. Bailey remained where she was, not looking happy, and Christina stopped serving to listen.

  Kyle set his beer on the bar. “I’ve been thinking about this. You’re good at stunt riding. I’m the best of the best at bull riding—I’ve got a rack of trophies to prove it. If we try to compete in each other’s best sport, we’ll both lose.”

  “I don’t know,” Adam said. “I’ve watched you fall off plenty of bulls. It doesn’t look that hard.”

  A couple guys, including Jack, chuckled, but Kyle ignored them. “So what I came up with was, a special competition, just for you and me. I set it up with the Fall Festival coordinators and judges—they’ll decide what you have to do to prove your best skills, and what I have to do to prove mine. And they and the audience will be the final judges. Sound good?”

  “Seems fair,” Adam said. He wouldn’t put it past Kyle to sweet-talk the judges into doing exactly what he wanted, but Adam couldn’t argue, not with the whole bar watching.

  “All right then.” Kyle stuck out his hand, always having to play the good sport. “May the best man win.”

  “All right.” Adam shook his hand.

  “What’s the prize?” A woman in a skimpy top asked. She eyed the two with an eager look, as though ready to offer herself to the winner.

  Kyle winked at her. “We haven’t decided. How about the loser does whatever the winner tells him to?”

  Adam shrugged. “Sounds good.” He glanced behind Kyle to Bailey, to see how she was reacting to this, but Bailey was gone. Shit.

  The rest of the bar crowded around them, talking and laughing, starting to take bets. Adam pushed through them, leaving Kyle behind, but Bailey was nowhere in sight.

  “I saw her leave,” one man said, and grinned. “Don’t tell me you lost track of her already, Campbell.”

  Adam resisted the urge to punch him, thanked him instead, and walked out of the bar.

  “You going after Bailey?” Kyle asked behind him.

  The night was mild, just right after a hot day, or would be if Kyle weren’t following him.

  “Yes,” Adam said tightly.

  Kyle fell into step beside Adam, not trying to stop him, but not dropping away either. “She picked you,” Kyle said. “I’m not happy about that, but it’s her choice. But I’m just going to tell you, I don’t like the way you treat her.”

  Adam stopped and swung around, forcing Kyle to a halt. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the way you don’t stick with anyone. When Bailey’s around you, she looks happy and miserable at the same time—probably because she knows you’re a love-em-and-leave-em kind of guy. That’s a polite way of saying man-whore. She doesn’t need that, especially not right now. She’s still hurting, and I don’t want to see her hurting more.”

  “Hurting Bailey isn’t at the top of my list,” Adam said in a hard voice. “She’s the best thing this town will ever see.”

  “Yeah, you have an answer for everything.” The anger in Kyle’s eyes was true, and went deeper than his usual rivalry with Adam. “She might not want me for anything serious, but no matter what happens between her and me, Bailey is my friend. Always has been. You treat her right, or I will come after you for real. I don’t care if you just recovered—I’ll break your leg again, and your other one, and mess up the side of your face that’s still pretty.”

  Adam took a step back. His heart burned, and for once, he didn’t want to come back at Kyle’s threats with a few of his own. “If I hurt her,” he said. “I’ll deserve it.”

  He gave Kyle a nod, turned, and strode away from him.

  **

  Bailey opened the door to Adam’s knock. He stood under the circle of porch light, the glare brushing his dark hair and not hiding the scars on his face.

  He didn’t smile, didn’t push his way in. He just said, “Hey.”

  Bailey folded her arms, her throat tight. “Are you and Kyle done shoving each other around the playground?”

  Now his sinful grin came. “You know if I backed down from his challenge, he’d never let it go.”

  “Yes, I know that, but I’m not helping you get on your feet again just to win some stupid bet with Kyle.”

  “’Course not. But you don’t want me to lose, do you?” Adam let his eyes go wide, giving her that innocent and charming look.

  Bailey shook her head, but she backed up and waved him into her house. “You’ll do what you want. You always do.”

  Adam didn’t answer as he entered but stood looking around the living room. “I like this house. You did good with it. It’s homey.”

  Bailey had furnished the living room with antique store finds, Hill Country being full of such places. She’d gone for the Edwardian look but with modern comforts, and now everything was muted reds, blues, and greens, with plenty of wood tones. “I wanted something cozy after my ultra-sleek apartment in Austin,” she said. “That place was upscale, but always a little cold. This house has been great—once I got the plumbing and wiring totally redone. No traffic rocketing by at three in the morning, and my neighbors talk to me.”

  Bailey closed the door as she spoke, wondering what she should do. She’d had sex
with Adam twice now, but she didn’t feel as though they’d resolved anything. He’d come here for more—she knew that—but where they would end up, she had no idea.

  “I don’t have any beer, sorry,” she said as Adam wandered around, looking at her few trinkets and books, the photos of family and horses on the wall, including a still from her recent shoot with Grant in New Mexico. “I’m not set up for a lot of company.”

  “I didn’t come here for drinks.” Adam turned from the photo of Bailey in a plaid shirt, hair in a braid, riding hell-for-leather on Buster. “I’m sorry about in the bar just now. Kyle brings out the asshole in me.”

  He smiled at her as she came to him, and he leaned to kiss her. Bailey hated that the touch of his lips made her doubts flee—as though he’d stay and make her happy the rest of her life.

  He licked across her lower lip, his eyes closing as he pulled her closer.

  Bailey was going to surrender—again. And it was going to be as good as before. Maybe better, if they could snuggle down in bed and stay there all night.

  A buzzing and jangling made her start. She breathed out again when she realized it was Adam’s phone.

  Adam kept his arms around her and made a face. “Why did anyone ever think cell phones were a good idea?”

  “You should get it,” Bailey said, a bit breathless. “If it’s your brothers, they’ll be here knocking at the door if they need to find you. They’ll have figured out where you’ve gone.”

  “That’s true.” Adam heaved a sigh and plucked the phone out of his back pocket. His scowl turned to an expression of surprise. “It’s Mark. I should take this.”

  Mark, his mentor, the man Adam trusted in all things. “Want me to leave you alone?” Bailey asked.

  Adam shook his head as he clicked on the phone and answered. “Hey, Mark. What’s up?”

  “You sound good.” The man’s voice came clearly, tinny but loud.

  Adam took Bailey’s hand and pulled her to the couch with him. He sank down on the crocheted afghans they’d made love on two nights ago, and tugged Bailey to sit next to him. “I feel pretty good. A hell of a lot better, anyway.”

  “You’re about to feel even better. I found a new picture for you. It’s a modern Western, from a major player, and they’re desperately looking for a stunt coordinator. I said you were the right man. The director really likes your work—you’ve worked with him before—so he’s all for it. They want everyone together for the first meeting in late October. Can I tell them you’ll be there?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Stunt coordinator?” Adam asked, a stunned look on his face.

  “Yep,” Bailey heard Mark say. “Means you get to tell everyone else how to fall down, but you don’t have to do it yourself if you don’t want to. I figure this is the perfect way to ease you back into work. I know what happened hit you hard. Didn’t want to push you before this, but it’s a great opportunity.”

  “Yeah, it is.” Adam squeezed Bailey’s hand. “It sure is.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  Adam glanced at Bailey, his eyes unreadable. “Do they need to know tonight? Or can I sleep on it and call you back?”

  “Yeah, call me back. Don’t take too long though—they’re getting anxious to get the contracts out.” A pause. “How are you doing, Adam? Really. You all right?”

  Adam squeezed Bailey’s hand again. “I’m much better. Promise.”

  “I heard about the lawsuit—they sent me all the shit. Don’t you worry about that, Adam. I’ll take care of it.”

  “I understand why Dawson’s family is upset,” Adam said.

  “I know you do, because you’re an understanding guy, but we can’t let them walk all over you. Dawson’s brother and his wife made Dawson’s life hell—they can take a little bit of hell back. Like I said, don’t you worry about it. You concentrate on getting better and back out here to Los Angeles. I’ve got a service taking care of your apartment, so everything’s right where you left it. Just cleaner.”

  Adam gave a short laugh. “Thanks.”

  “You take care now,” Mark said. “Talk to you soon.”

  “Thanks, Mark.”

  They hung up.

  Adam was quiet as he laid the phone on Bailey’s coffee table. He turned to her, his gaze pensive. “He offered me—”

  “I know.” Bailey gave him a nod. “I heard. He was loud.”

  “Yeah, Mark likes to make sure his voice carries. Stunt coordinator on a major picture. That means I work out every stunt, I’m in charge of the budget, hiring the stuntmen … everything.”

  “That doesn’t come along every day, does it?” Bailey asked.

  “No.” Adam shook his head, an excited light in his eyes. “Not to me anyway.”

  “I think you should do it.” Bailey said the words in a rush, afraid she’d keep silent otherwise.

  Adam studied her, quieting. “Do you?”

  “Yes. Like he said, it’s a terrific opportunity. I imagine the money will be good.”

  “Yeah, Mark is good at money. I’ll probably be able to negotiate anything I want.”

  Bailey rubbed Adam’s hand, rough and sunburned from today’s workout. “Then you should go.”

  Again Adam said nothing while he looked at her. Bailey reached up and touched the ruined side of his face, brushing her thumb over his scars.

  She loved him so much. But if his life, and his heart, was elsewhere, in his work, she wasn’t going to be the one who stood in his way.

  If she begged him to stay with her, and he did it to please her, that short-term pleasure would turn into resentment on his part. You couldn’t get between a person and his dream, or guilt him into not pursuing it. The dream would always win. You’d try to hold them back, then you’d turn around, and they’d be gone.

  “Think on it, Adam,” she said softly. “Think good and hard. It’s your whole life you’re talking about. If you decide to go, I’ll drive you to the airport.”

  Adam’s blue eyes were steady, no flickering, no indecision. “You’re an amazing woman, Bailey. But I always knew that.”

  “Yeah, well.” Bailey ducked her head as though modest, and she forced a smile. “That’s what they all say. Tell you what, though—if you’re going to get back into stunts and show up Kyle at the Fall Festival, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  “But not right now,” Adam said, his voice going low. He smoothed her hair, turning his face up to his and kissed her, his mouth warm, taking his time.

  Bailey didn’t fight her surrender. What had she told him? We have to grab on to what we have, and love the people we love as hard as we can while we still have them. That’s what she’d do with Adam.

  At least, this time, they made it to the bedroom.

  **

  Three weeks later …

  Three weeks of Bailey working Adam’s ass off every day, and then making fine, hot love to him at night.

  Adam was surprised some mornings he could walk after their wild times. Baily had amazing energy in the bedroom, but she still remained a sweetheart, kind to everyone she saw and well-liked in return, no matter that the entire town knew Adam spent every night at her house.

  Not that Bailey cut him any slack as far as riding was concerned. Adam had to admit that Bailey was turning out to be one of the best trainers he’d ever had. She knew when to push and when to let him ease into it, how to guide him into trickier and trickier stunts, until Adam was almost, but not quite, back to his old confidence.

  The not quite bugged him as the Fall Festival drew nearer. Adam was never certain when he’d have one of the panic attacks, though they’d backed off, and never happened when he was enjoying himself in Bailey’s bed.

  The years fell away when he was with her, and they’d laugh, tease each other, and play Do you remember … ? until Adam forgot his troubles. Things would be perfect, he thought, if he could only stay lazy with her and let the world go by.

  Bailey, of course, wouldn’t let him.

/>   The end of the three weeks found Adam standing near the open arena at the county fairgrounds, wondering what in the hell Kyle was going to make him do to humiliate him in front of everyone they knew.

  The MC for the rodeo and horseshow portion of River County’s Fall Festival had been the class clown when Adam was in school. Clint’s father used to be MC; Clint had taken over when he’d retired. Clint was good at it, though the whole county now had to groan at his bad jokes.

  Show classes for the kids under twelve came early in the day. Adam hung out near the rail with Carter as Faith entered the ring on Dodie to compete in a Western trail horse class.

  Faith had been practicing and practicing for this, and she had each obstacle down, but Adam sensed Carter tense as soon as his daughter rode into the ring.

  “Here’s a pretty little lady,” Clint’s voice came over the system. “Riding another pretty little lady. Let’s give it up for Faith Sullivan and Dodie.”

  Applause came from the small crowd and some shouts of encouragement. Adam clapped hard, but Carter stood unmoving, gaze fixed on Faith.

  Faith did look pretty, her brown hair in a tight braid under her straw cowboy hat, her jeans and button-down shirt clean and pressed. She rode well, head up, heels down, seat solid, one hand quiet on the reins, the other relaxed on her thigh. Dodie arched her neck and pricked her ears forward, looking eager.

  The trail class was an obstacle course, the rider proving she or he could take the horse through it calmly and quickly, without mistakes. Obstacles included a wooden bridge, a gate, rails arranged in an L-shape the horse had to back through, equally spaced poles to trot over, and whatever else the course designer had decided to use this year.

  Faith took Dodie through most of the obstacles without a problem, Dodie backing through the L on dainty feet. If the mare stepped outside the poles as Faith backed her, that was points off. Dodie placed her feet carefully, though, coming nowhere near them. Next, she trotted willingly over the evenly spaced poles without touching them, and walked over the hollow, echoing wooden bridge as though she ate scary bridges for breakfast.