When Roses Collide

Chapter Thirty-Nine

"I promised you a back scrub, sunshine and that's exactly what you're going to get." Travis chuckled at her refusal to look at him.

Seemed like his ability to stay out of the doghouse was a slippery slope to climb. Especially when you opened your mouth and kept sticking your boot in it. Quite frankly, he was getting tired of the taste of leather. Pulling himself up, he slowly drew Harley's t-shirt over his head. As he had hoped, she responded with one curious amethyst eye opening to take a peek.

Pretending not to notice, he tossed the shirt over in the corner of the bathroom and stretched his arms over his head. He knew every muscle in his body flexed with his movement and he sucked in his stomach to show off his abs. It was a lame thing to do, resorting to his physical appearance to persuade her, but hey...desperate times called for desperate measures. If this didn't work, he would have to try quoting poetry and he wasn't the type of guy who was good with the flowery shit. He could buy a truckload of geraniums, but the best he could do when it came to spouting romantic verses was maybe a dirty limerick or two. Somehow, he just didn't think the Man from Nantucket would work in his favor.

Fortunately, all those hours he spent lifting bales and breaking his back paid off, judging by the look she was sending his way now. His body instantly responded to her blatant perusal. Swallowing  a moan, he kneeled back down beside the tub. Although, it was a hell of a lot easier they first time when he didn't have a raging erection.

Not able to resist keeping his hands off her, he gently caressed the side of her neck. "Slide down and wet your hair, sunshine and I'll wash it for you."

"Are you sure you don't want to just push my head under and keep it there until I stop thrashing?" she teased, giving him a soft, breathy laugh that made the situation in his pants even more uncomfortable.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I've been a bitch?" A crease formed between her slim brows and she picked up a mound of bubbles into the palm of her hand before giving a hefty sigh, sending them sailing across the tub.

"Now, sweetheart, if I killed off every woman who ever bitched at me, I'd be out of places to hide the bodies by now." Grinning, he lightly pushed on her shoulders and after a little giggle, she obeyed. Sliding down into the sudsy water and slipping beneath the foam.

When she eased back up, her long raven hair sheeted down her back, covering her rose tattoo. She wiped the water out of her eyes and then slowly lifted her lids, smiling at him. Those eyes of hers held him as easily as if she had lassoed a rope around him and bound him to her. It wasn't because they were beautiful, though the color was stunning. It was more of the combination of strength and vulnerability that bowled him over. And when she gave him that unguarded look like she was now, it made him feel invincible. As if he could leap tall building in a single bound and his chest seemed to naturally puff out all on its own. He glanced down at his pecs just to make sure a giant M hadn't suddenly appeared.

Harley leaned back against the tub, closing her eyes and stiffly rolling her neck with a moan.

"Rough day, huh?"

"Not one of my best, that's for damn sure," she sighed. "But, not the worst either." She opened her eyes and gave him a little wink.

"I can imagine," Travis murmured, though he would rather not try. That video of her going under the horse still haunted him. Reaching over, he grabbed a bottle of shampoo from nearby and squeezed some of it into the palm of his hand. The scent hit his nose and he brought it closer, breathing it in deep. Jasmine. Now his most favorite smell in the world.

"Yup, last week Becca coerced me into watching a Martha Stewart marathon on how to fold a fitted sheet." She shuddered. "That was a bad day. I thought it would never end."