In Over His Head

never having to shop for clothes. All the money we'd save not having to buy clothes. All the money we'd save on food. With everyone running around naked, you'd want to be in the best shape possible, so everyone would eat less, thereby saving on groceries.' She tickled her fingers over his ridged abdomen and he sucked in a breath. 'Of course, the whole idea would only work if everyone did it.'

'You sold me. Let's test it out right now.'

She raised her gaze from the fascinating ribbon of hair bisecting the skin below his equally fascinating navel. 'Huh?'

'Let's get naked.' He unsnapped her shirt with one firm tug, then immediately leaned forward to take her nipple into his warm mouth.

Heat shot through Lexie and she arched her back. 'I thought you wanted to clean up.'

'Later. Right now I want you.' He cupped his hands on her buttocks, pulling her tighter against his erection. 'Any complaints?'

'Absolutely not.'

'Unfortunately the condoms are in the bedroom.'

'Except for this one.' Smiling, she pulled a plastic package from the pocket of his denim shirt, then dangled it between her fingers. 'Slipped it in there before dinner. Boy Scouts aren't the only ones who know how to be prepared.'

His clever fingers stroked between her splayed thighs and her eyes slid closed. 'Let me light the fire,' he whispered against her ear.

'I… mmm… don't have a fireplace.'

'Darlin', it's not that kind of fire.'

* * *

By the time they got around to the dishes, the remains of dinner had hardened on the plates. Lexie cleared the table, while Josh loaded the dishwasher.

'What's this?' he asked, pulling an aluminum foil-wrapped plate out from behind the coffeemaker.

'Nothing!' Lexie made a grab for the foil, but he was too quick. Before she could stop him, he'd unwrapped the plate and was staring at the contents.

Embarrassment scorched her cheeks. He said nothing for several interminable seconds, then he finally raised his gaze to hers and regarded her with an impossible-to-read expression.

'You made these?' he asked. 'For me?'

'Well, I tried to. You'd mentioned that chocolate-chip cookies were your favorite. I gave it my best shot, but clearly I should have just stopped at the bakery.' She shook her head. 'I told you I was a lousy cook.'

'So that's what I smelled earlier.'

'I'm afraid so. I was going to trash them, but you arrived, and then I forgot.'

His brows shot upward. 'Throw them away? Why?'

'In case you haven't noticed, I burned them.' Her gaze wandered to the flat, charred disks on the plate and she winced. 'Incinerated is actually closer to the truth.'

He picked up one of the scorched cookies, brought it to his lips, then took a big bite. He chewed slowly, his gaze never leaving hers.

Her stomach tightened in sympathy and she prayed his act of chivalry wouldn't cause him any gastrointestinal distress.

He swallowed, God bless him, but then to her amazement, he took another bite. Clearly the first bite had killed off all the poor man's tastebuds.

She reached for the plate, but he held it protectively against his chest. 'Josh, please, you don't have to eat them. They're awful.'

'No, they're not.'

'They're not?'

'Nope.' His lips curved into a smile so filled with warmth and delight, her breath caught. 'They're just like Mom used to make.'

* * *

The next morning, after their early morning sailing lesson, followed by a swimming lesson during which Lexie merely swam laps alongside him, Josh let himself into his hotel room.

Dropping his key onto the still perfectly made bed, he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. After washing off the chlorine, he closed his eyes, braced his hands against the tiles, and let the warm water rush over him as images of Lexie danced behind his eyelids.

Lexie smiling at him over a glass of wine. Her pleasure over the dinner he'd made her. Laughing as he'd fashioned a mini lasso from a piece of yarn and played with Scout. Sighing with pleasure as he'd massaged away her lingering aches from their horseback riding lesson. Crying out his name in release. Her soft skin under his hands as she fell asleep in his arms.

Two more weeks. He was scheduled to leave here in two more weeks. The mere thought of it cinched his stomach into knots. How the hell could he? He couldn't. Yet neither could he stay. He had responsibilities back home. A ranch to run. People who depended on him. And he had a quest to finish. Damn it, he was going to sail a boat in the Mediterranean. He had to. If he didn't, it would eat at him till his dying day.

She was the thing that was messing up all his nice, neat plans. Falling in love with her was wreaking havoc with his life, blowing him to bits in the emotional minefield he'd laid himself.

Every minute he spent with her, every time he touched her, spoke to her, shared a memory with her, made love to her, another bomb detonated. And to top it all off, she'd baked-okay, burned-him chocolate-chip cookies. Because he'd mentioned they were his favorite. That sweet, simple gesture had cut him off at the knees. Indeed all her actions and gestures showed that she cared about him, and she'd agreed that they were 'dating,' but she hadn't given him any other verbal indication that he meant anything more to her than a fling. And he was running out of time. And patience.

He knew what he wanted. He wanted Lexie. He wanted her to fall in love with him. He wanted them to figure out a compromise to remain together after his time at the Whispering Palms ended.

He just wasn't sure about the best way to go about getting those things to happen.

Shutting off the water, he grabbed a towel. Wrapping the white terry cloth around his waist, he wiped off a section of the steamy mirror with his hand then stared at his reflection. 'Why the hell couldn't you have fallen in love at some other, more convenient time? And maybe with a gal who lived a little closer to home? One who wanted to travel? And one who didn't look spooked every time you mentioned the word 'rodeo'?'

When his reflection remained silent, he left the bathroom. The phone rang and he snatched up the receiver.

'Hey, Josh. It's Bob,' came his business manager's voice. 'How's the vacation? You all rested up?'

'Vacation's going great,' he said, not adding that sleep was playing a minimal role.

'And how about those sailing lessons?'

'Just fine.'

'Glad to hear it. Listen, I'm calling 'cause I just got the heads up on something I think you'll find very interesting.'

Josh tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling. He had a strong sense he knew what was coming next. And he didn't want to hear it. 'Bob, I'm retired.'

'I know it.' A lengthy pause filled the air. 'But Wes Handly isn't.'

The mention of his rival's name piqued Josh's curiosity, as he knew Bob had hoped. 'I'm listening.'

'Handly's just signed on for an international charity event in Europe scheduled for next month. Right now he's the biggest name on marquee. But I know another name that could knock him off the top spot.' Before Josh could reply, Bob rushed on, 'The corporate sponsors are going nuts with this, Josh. They're promising the moon if you'll step out of retirement. Not only would it make you rich-'