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  What would’ve happened between them if they’d met up before Trent had screwed Joshua over? Would she have perceived him to be more of a man, one with decent qualities that hadn’t been shadowed by crisis?

  More to the point, would it have been harder for her to define him as this nobody who was currently servicing her?

  Frustration overcame him. He had a name, an identity, a family and friends. He even had a chance to right the wrongs done to his kin and, damn it all, he wanted her to know that he existed as more than a nonentity.

  His body went taut, and she must’ve predicted that the change could only mean a serious attempt at conversation.

  Rolling out of bed, she said, “Think I’ll hit the shower early.”

  He thought of the simple, shared facilities down the hall. Not very romantic in there, not even as roomy as his truck.

  “Why the hurry?” he asked. “No one else is around this place. It’s not as if you’ll have to beat the crowd.” He laid back down. “Unless you want to get on the road and go back to Carmen.”

  “She’ll still be out on the houseboat…”

  The brunette seemed tempted to add more, yet she didn’t.

  Instead, she assumed a neutral expression, donned a nightdress from her belongings and grabbed a beauty bag before opening the door.

  “See you in a few,” she said, sending him a promising smile as she left.

  And…once again, he found himself alone with the ghosts and the dawn.

  Damn it, what should he make of her?

  He must’ve drifted off under the weight of the question because, before he knew it, she was back, water still dewing her shoulders and curling her dark hair.

  Nature called, so he got up to put on his jeans, kissed her wet shoulder, then ambled down the hall to brush his teeth and grab a quick shower.

  When he got back, she was facing the window, running a comb through her damp hair.

  Buck naked.

  He closed the door behind him, his cock showing interest by going board stiff.

  “Tease,” he said.

  “Sucker,” she said right back, turning around to face him.

  As orange and pink shimmered through the window, his gaze traveled up her long legs, then the dark thatch of hair that covered her sex. He continued upward, over her slender waist, her breasts…

  Sweet heaven, she was wearing the choker he’d purchased for her yesterday.

  And that was all.

  Now his penis was fully erect, clamoring to be inside her, where he knew she would feel tight and soft, drenched for him.

  “Since we woke up so early,” she said, tossing her comb into her bag on the floor, “I figured we could have one for the road.”

  “Then get over here before the burros see you through the window.”

  She sauntered over to him, coming to stand inches away, where he could feel the heat of her skin, even from a near distance. It flared into him, pumping up his temperature, his pulse.

  He couldn’t help leaning in closer, just to smell her, to taunt her. His cock brushed her pubic hair, inflaming him further.

  She sucked in a breath, then cupped his penis, parting her legs so she could guide his tip through her damp folds.

  Groaning, he braced his hands on her shoulders. His nerve endings screamed and, instinctively, he nudged the opening of her sex with his arousal, seeking entrance.

  “Wait,” she said.

  Condom. Damn it.

  He cursed some more while securing one, sheathing himself and then turning back to her, grabbing her hips in one fluid movement while he sat on the bed. Without further preamble, he brought her onto his lap, impaling her, and she threw back her head, letting out a surprised, ecstatic cry.

  He wanted to say her name, but he couldn’t. It just stuck in his throat until she pushed him back onto the mattress, where the pressure of an exclamation came out in a fierce grunt.

  She rode him, hard and rough, working him until steam gathered in his belly, his cock. On and on until he couldn’t take any more, past that point, beyond anything he’d ever endured.

  With a dissipating crash, he came, his skin vulnerable with sensation, his emotions built to a point where he couldn’t contain them.

  “What’re you doing to me?” he grated, body on fire.

  She smiled cryptically, but before she could give him another one of her flip answers, he maneuvered himself so that he was on top of her, hovering, seething.

  Even in his raw fury, he could see that she was on the edge of a climax. Cruelly, he withheld it from her.

  Two could play this game.

  He used his penis—erect even now—to tease her sex. She wiggled beneath him, biting her lip, but the gleam in her eyes told him she was still playing.

  “How far are you going to take this?” he asked. “How far should I go?”

  He pressed his tip against her clit, and she winced.

  “Come on, cowboy,” she whispered, her tone jagged.

  He came close to telling her his name, claiming her in some odd way, but he wanted her to work for it now, just as he had worked so hard for her.

  And that’s exactly what he had been doing, he realized. Working himself around from being the bitter man who had first hit the road to being someone who sought more value than that.

  He was going to prove his worth, too…

  Separating her legs, he went down on her, brutally loving her with his mouth, his tongue, manipulating her clit until she pulled at his hair and rocked against him.

  When she yelled out her orgasm, it was a wordless mangle, and he wondered if she regretted not knowing his name then.

  As she caught her breath, loosening her nailed hold on his shoulders, morning grew stronger and his blood slowed to a lurching crawl. He slid up her body, sweat sticking them together in a physical bond—the only one they had.

  He rolled over and took her with him, chest to chest, skin to skin. She accepted his embrace, wrapping her arms around him. But he knew this kind of intimacy might end up chasing her away as soon as she had time to realize what she was doing, and that was the last thing he wanted.

  So he took a chance.

  “And to think,” he said, “we’ve got all day for more, if you want.”

  She stiffened, but only for a moment before she went pliant, burrowing her face into his neck.

  “I do want,” she said, before sighing against him.

  And that was good enough for now.

  CARMEN HADN’T SLEPT well last night on the houseboat, even in the bed that she’d been given.

  She’d shared it with Sarah, the marine biology student, and the rest of the bunch had used everything from the second bedroom to the main room’s floor.

  That’s where Eddie had slumbered, for all Carmen knew, because after their disagreement and then Lucy’s phone call, she’d been too wired to even think of getting it on with the guy she’d been pursuing.

  If only she’d just stuck with Lucy’s original travel plans.

  She got out of bed while fingers of orange and red tickled the sky, then discovered Richie brewing coffee in the kitchen. She glanced at the sleeping bodies on the floor, trying to recognize Eddie, but both forms had the blankets pulled over their heads, as if to keep out Richie’s kitchen puttering.

  Was one of them Eddie?

  Or was he in that second bedroom with Trudy?

  No, she wouldn’t make a drama out of this, so she went to the deck, where Richie soon joined her with coffee. They talked softly about his engineering classes as well as some Web sites they both frequented.

  But every time she broached the subject of Eddie, Richie clammed up.

  Were these people some kind of Kool-Aid cult following a leader who told them to keep quiet as he lured Carmen into his clutches?

  She had to laugh at herself. Overreact much?

  Out of the sheer need to get out of her funk, Carmen shed her sarong cover-up and dived into the water, surfacing and heaving in air.


  Cold!

  Richie did the same, and they ended up quietly splashing around like kids before climbing back up the deck ladder and swaddling themselves in towels.

  Just as the others were starting to mill around, she got a call on her cell. Lucy.

  “Morning, sunshine,” Carmen said.

  “Morning. Whatcha up to?”

  She filled Lucy in. “Richie says we’re supposed to stop by the dock when late afternoon comes around. Then I think Eddie’s going to take his pictorial side trip on the Route while the others go out on the lake again.”

  And, Carmen thought, the change in routine would pretty much spell the end of her Eddie time.

  She told herself that, with the way things were going, a parting was cool with her. Besides, she couldn’t wait to see Lucy again and hear about her escapade.

  Yet the sentiments rang hollow.

  “When are you heading back?” Carmen asked.

  “Well, I…” Lucy started. “Um…”

  Trepidation sneaked up on her. “You I…er…um what?”

  “I’m kind of on the Route myself.”

  Carmen almost dropped the phone, and Richie widened his eyes at her obvious shock.

  “Where on the Route?” She hushed down, mindful that others still might be sleeping. “Oh, man, Lucy…”

  “I swear, Carmen, this is it. I’ll be back tomorrow.” She paused, as if that cowboy were right next to her and she was giving him one of her patented Cute Lucy Grins. “I swear.”

  Carmen took a breath then let it out slowly. She had created this horny monster, so she wouldn’t chastise. She wouldn’t fuss, either. That would make her too much like Mama, and Carmen stiffened at the notion.

  Was it because she couldn’t ever picture herself with her mother’s life? Mama was a woman who seemed to control everyone now because Carmen suspected she didn’t have many choices herself at this point. Not that Mama appeared to be unhappy, but there were times when she saw something in the older woman’s eyes that looked like faded dreams.

  Carmen put a defensive hand on her hip. “You’re not telling me where you are?”

  “You’ll know once I bring you back souvenirs.”

  Lucy was pulling the charm act on her now, and Carmen sighed.

  “Hey,” her friend said, “I’m still safe, and I’m still very happy.”

  What, were Lucy and her fling headed toward Vegas to get hitched or something? In spite of Lucy’s organizational passions, she had always been ready to go a little wild. It’s just that she’d had too much of a straitlaced upbringing to do it quickly. Shedding old ways took time.

  “How’s Eddie?” her friend asked.

  Ignoring the change of subject, Carmen said, “Fine. Spectacular. But why can’t you and your cowboy just do your thing back here?”

  “All’s cool. Believe me.” Someone—the cowboy, Carmen would bet—said something, and Lucy answered. Then she was back on the phone. “Gotta go. Love ya, Carm!”

  “Lu—”

  But the line was already dead.

  Carmen thought about redialing, but that would make her Mama. Did she have reason to be amping out like this or was she just overreacting again?

  A voice spoke from behind her. “Another call?”

  It was Eddie. Carmen turned around to find him dressed in new jeans and a blue T-shirt, his sandy hair wet and in disarray. In spite of all her misgivings, her heart clenched at the sight. So damn cute.

  “Lucy’s still off and running,” she said.

  Richie sneaked away, into the main cabin, and Eddie took his place on the lounge chair across from her. The morning air was fresh, and the water glistened, as if waking itself up.

  “You’re worried,” he said.

  “Slightly. I know Lucy can handle herself, but…Heck, it’s her first time doing something like this.”

  Eddie chuckled, taking a drink from the coffee he was holding.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I guess when I first saw you sitting in that diner, with your hair—” he motioned toward his head, imitating a follicle explosion “—and that punk tank top…”

  “You thought I was straight out of a mosh pit.”

  “You threw your head back when you laughed, like you didn’t care about anything. I really liked that. Liked it a lot.”

  Carmen realized that she’d never been that garage-band-shirt-wearing girl at all. She had dressed that way forever, but she’d had Malcolm to keep her mentally grounded. She’d had Lucy, too, back when her friend had possessed a level head.

  Before the birth of Sexzilla.

  And…well, she guessed that she’d also had herself to monitor those hedonistic urges all the other kids around her had given in to.

  She’d had herself all along and she hadn’t even known it.

  The realization shocked her, but it comforted her, too. She had herself. Her choices, not her family’s.

  “But after getting to know you a little,” Eddie added, “I get it. You’re the nurturing type, even if you don’t want to commit to anyone right now.”

  She couldn’t say anything, not when a stranger seemed to know her better than she had ever known herself. Or maybe it’d just taken her a long time to recognize that she was a mother hen.

  God, but that’s not what she wanted, either. Marriage, kids, all the rest…

  A future of that gave her the hives.

  “I’m not my mom,” Carmen said, standing up.

  “Who says you have to be?”

  She wanted to leave this conversation, but where else would she go on this boat? It was only so big and Eddie would catch up sometime. And even if he might not ever continue their discussion, she would know it had gone unresolved.

  It unnerved her that he guessed so darn much about her.

  “Listen,” Eddie said, calmly looking up at Carmen, his forearms on his thighs as he held his mug. “If you want me to hire a P.I., I can. For Lucy. If you’re that worried.”

  “No, that’s definitely going too far.” She frowned. “P.I.’s aren’t cheap, either.”

  “Sometimes they’re a good investment.”

  Another vague statement hooking her in to wondering even more about him.

  Her frustration with him came to a boil. “What do you mean by that, Eddie? How do you have enough money to be throwing it around on houseboats and P.I.’s? And what’s with you hanging around these kids you seem to have nothing in common with? What’s going on?”

  Silently, he rose to a stand, his jaw tight. “I can take you to the docks, Carmen, and if you need more help, all you have to do is ask. Other than that…I’m sorry.”

  Her mouth opened, ready to fire off more questions at him. But something told her it would only force him back, away from her.

  And that’s not what she longed for. She wanted…

  Well, it had turned out not to be sex. At least not right now.

  So what was it?

  In the back of her mind, the answer took form, just as if she had been staring at a Rorschach test and the picture suddenly made some sense.

  It wasn’t just his youth and the buried longings that came with it. There was another quality about Eddie Kilpatrick that drew her. The way he listened. The way he seemed to understand Carmen without her having to explain her opinions or feel guilty about them.

  More importantly, she wanted the option of showing herself that she could bring someone so patently wrong for her home. That she had made her own choice in who she wished to be with for the time being.

  She looked at Eddie straight on. “You’re going on the road today?”

  “I planned to.”

  Ask him, Carmen. Pursue what you want.

  She gathered her guts and went for it. “See, Lucy has the keys to our car, and I know she’s somewhere not too far away. I wonder if looking at the places she was interested in before she took off might—”

  “Then let’s get going,” Eddie said, not requiring a
ny further explanation.

  Which made perfect sense.

  SHE WOULD NEVER have this chance again, Lucy thought. So why not go for it all?

  When the cowboy had suggested that they spend the day at Grand Canyon Caverns, a Route 66 institution located only a couple of hours away, she’d agreed, her body pressed against his after she’d experienced the best sex ever.

  Being in such a position, how could she possibly say no?

  Okay, her mind had been muddled, but she didn’t regret it.

  The only thing that allowed Lucy to take one more day away from Havisu was that Carmen was with Eddie, having her own good times. Besides, Lucy would be back soon; this was only a side trip. A fling that had almost run its course.

  So she had hopped into the stranger’s truck to head east with him.

  Things had gone just as well as they had in Oatman. They’d laughed, relaxed, listened to a seventies rock station that was barely more music then static.

  And then he had gotten a phone call.

  He had taken only one glimpse at his cell before muttering that he had to pick up, then pulled off the road and into a rusted, closed gas station.

  As she waited in the truck, she watched the cowboy, his broad back turned to her, the phone to his ear. Behind him, an old Texaco sign lay on its side, as if it’d been pushed over and never gotten back up. Faded red gasoline pumps waited for one last customer, seeming forlorn at the lack of traffic.

  Suddenly, the cowboy took off his hat and swung it around at whatever news he’d just gotten. Laughing, he hunkered down to his haunches, where he continued talking, but with more animation this time.

  More than what she’d ever seen from him.

  Lucy realized that she was this close to his personal life. Too close.

  Soon, he ended the call and headed back toward the truck. His hat was back on where it normally was—guarding his gaze as it cast shade over his face, his pale eyes glowing under the brim.

  Dust kicked around his boots as he ambled closer. A cloud rolled over the sun, stealing some light.

  All the while, her heart warmed in her chest, and she pressed her hand to it.

  Opening the door, he started to tell her something, just barely able to contain his joy. But then he held up his hands, cutting himself off.