Chapter Five
Gage followed her through the lobby of the luxury hotel she’d booked. Sacramento was one of the bigger towns on the tour and if he’d forgotten that he and Sierra were from two different worlds that point was driven home to him as the concierge greeted her by name and asked if she needed anything sent up to her room.
“Thank you, Henry,” she said. “I’m hungry. What about you?”
She turned to Gage with a sparkle in her eye and he noticed that her lips were still a bit swollen from his kisses and that she had a bit of stubble burn on her neck. He needed to shave. Surely a posh place like this one would have a razor in the bathroom.
“I seem to have worked up an appetite,” he said.
“Me too! Henry, we’ll have two cheeseburgers and fries, and I want a chocolate shake. Gage?”
“Strawberry shake for me,” he said. He liked that she wasn’t ordering something healthy even though it was almost midnight… Hell, a smart man who wanted to stay in the money would be calling it a night.
But no one had ever raved about his intelligence. His stubbornness and his determination, sure. But not his smarts.
“I’ll have them sent up. Anything else?” Henry asked.
“A razor,” Gage said. “I need to shave.”
Henry nodded and then Sierra took his hand in hers and led him toward the bank of elevators. The floor was some kind of swanky hard marble and the heels of his fancy Kelly boots echoed as he followed her.
While they waited for the elevator car to come, she kept his hand in hers. Like they were a couple.
A real couple.
Like he belonged to her and she belonged to him.
And for a man who’d been wandering as long as he had, that was scary. He was a loner by nature and circumstance but Sierra wasn’t.
She thought… Hell what he wanted was what she thought. That maybe this could be the start of something. But he was a man who was trying to earn his father’s respect even if that meant letting him believe he was his brother. Gage had made his peace with it.
But he doubted that anyone else would understand. He knew that he had to keep winning to keep in his dad’s good graces…and here he was with Sierra.
Holding her hand and then when they stepped into the empty elevator car, he contemplated kissing her.
Hell he wanted more than a kiss. Sex in his truck had simply whetted his appetite for her and like a starving man offered a free meal he wasn’t going to worry about how to pay the bill later.
Tomorrow was soon enough.
He wrapped his arm around her and held her close to his side. She smelled faintly of whiskey from the bar he’d taken her to and of sex.
Which made his body respond. He still wanted her. Once wasn’t enough. He was pretty sure that one hundred times wasn’t going to be enough for him.
The door opened on her floor and she led the way down the hall to her suite. She opened the door and he looked around the large entryway with a sitting area and small kitchenette and then there was a closed door that he assumed led to the bathroom.
“Do you want the grand tour?”
“Sure. I think I could use a shower,” he said. “I’m sure a fancy place like this has robes in the room.”
She tipped her head to the side. “They do. Does it bother you that this is where I’m staying?”
“In what way?” he asked.
She shrugged. “You know my family has money.”
“I do.”
“It makes some men…well, just behave oddly. That’s all,” she said.
She must get her fair share of gold diggers looking for an easy ride. But he’d never been one to ride on someone else’s coat tails, preferring to make his own way. “That’s not what I meant. Just that I want to wash the smell of the roadside bar off of me before I climb into bed with you.”
She blushed, which he had to admit he found enchanting. He’d seen her in her corporate, professional mode and she was beyond competent in the way she worked. He knew the entire rookie campaign that Montez Denim was running this year had been her brainchild. She was smart as a whip and confident in every part of her life but with him she was shy.
Was it just him or all men?
That wasn’t a question he wanted to ask or contemplate.
“Since you put it that way I could probably use a shower too,” she said. “Let me show you the bathroom. There’s one of those huge rain showers and a garden tub.”
He followed her through the living area and into the bedroom, which was dominated by a king-sized bed. She flicked on the lights as she continued to the bathroom and he followed her.
“This place feels huge. And it’s not just because I’ve been living in the camper while I’m on tour. My bunk on the oil rig was tiny as well.”
“I want to know more about that,” she said. “I can’t imagine working and living in the same place.”
“You do though, don’t you?” he asked. “Montez Denim is based in Dallas and you live there.”
“True but there are about a million other people who live there too,” she said. “I know that’s not an accurate population count but you know what I mean. And I drive to work out of my little neighborhood. I mean it’s a lot different than being contained in one location. I guess what I meant is how don’t you go stir-crazy?”
“Fair enough,” he said. “I wasn’t going to correct you on the population.”
She shook her head. “Sorry, that was habit. My dad likes accurate statistics. And I’m more of a generalist. So, he’s always like: were there really a million people in front of you at Starbucks this morning…ugh, right?”
He laughed as he realized her shyness earlier was just nerves. Now that he was in the suite and they were talking she was starting to settle down. Which was exactly what he wanted. This night might be their only one together and he wanted to make it one that she’d never forget.
*
Sierra and Gage were sitting in front of the TV watching an old movie that he hadn’t seen since he’d been working on the oil rig when it came out. It was one of those superhero ones where they all band together to save the earth.
“I’m going to have to go to the gym tomorrow but this cheeseburger was exactly what I needed,” she said. They’d both showered and he’d shaved. She’d offered to send his clothes down to be laundered so they’d be clean for the morning, but he’d declined. They were both wearing the hotel robes.
“Why were you so…out of sorts this evening?” he asked. “I think it had something to do with your dad.”
“Yeah,” she said, taking her time chewing the bite of burger she had in her mouth. She wiped her lips before turning to him. Normally she wouldn’t have said anything to him about Montez Denim because he worked for the company.
“He sent his assistant to check up on me,” she said. “It’s not enough for the board that I’ve managed to increase our market share since the start of the campaign and I have to tell you that the AEBR fans are really responding to the posters and the fan events.”
“I can tell. In the first few cities we were getting a small amount of fans but you saw how it was today. They’re lining up and waiting for us all. It’s not just like that for me,” he said. “I think it helps that we’re winning.”
“It does help. I didn’t mean in any way to take away from your skill, but the campaign was my idea and I had to fight with the board to convince them I could run it.”
“Why?” he asked. “I can understand it from your father’s perspective but what about the rest of the board.”
“We’re a family-held company so everyone on the board is related to me or married to someone related to me. They all remember when I had braces or when I worked summers in high school and they still see me as that teenager instead of a professional.”
She realized she was one step away from whining and stopped. “Anyway, Dad is the absolute worst and when I saw Bruce skulking around today I lit into him and told him to go back to Dallas. I don’t need him there watching me.”
“You certainly don’t,” he said.
“Thanks. So what about you? You were…running like there was a rogue bull behind you and no rodeo clown to distract it.”
He leaned back, stretching his arms along the back of the couch. He’d shaved and he looked younger without the stubble, with a hint of vulnerability that she normally wouldn’t associate with him.
“It’s complicated.”
“If you don’t want to say that’s fine,” she said, feeling like he probably didn’t want to talk to her because—well, the only thing she could think of was that he must see her as a hookup. Someone he was getting busy with but not someone he wanted to share the details of his life with.
“It’s not that. It involves my family. My dad has Alzheimer’s and some days he’s really lucid and he seems normal. He does the ranch chores and talks with the hands like his old self and then the next day he’s talking about stuff that makes no sense to my mom.”
“Oh, Gage. That’s got to be so hard. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did.” She really wasn’t good at this sort of thing. What could she say? It sucked. She had been lucky in that no one close to her had anything seriously wrong with them, health wise.
“It’s okay. I haven’t really talked about it. It’s not something that I bring up when I’m out drinking with the guys.”
“I hope I didn’t push you into sharing more than you wanted to,” she said.
“No, you didn’t. Tonight while I was sitting in my trailer watching the playback from the qualifying and thinking about my ride, he called and he wasn’t himself. It just sort of set me off.”
She could see that. Whether he admitted it or not, she guessed it had to be hard for him to be on tour. The memories of his brother had to be stronger here than they were on the oil rig. Which he admitted wasn’t a place that had given him a lot of time to think about anything other than the job most days.
“Wish you were back on the North Sea?”
“Some days…yeah, I do. It was easier there. No one knew about Marty; my dad never called me. But then if I was out there I wouldn’t be here with you.”
That made her feel like more than a hookup. But he was a charming guy. She liked it when he called her darlin’ with that sweet accent of his but a part of her wondered if he did that because he didn’t know or couldn’t remember her name. Which made her feel a little less than special.
She wondered how Savanna did this. She was always starting something new every two or three weeks. Was that what she liked? The getting to know each other but only sharing what you wanted?
Because she realized that while she told him about her dad, she hadn’t told him about how she wanted to be different than her sister and her mom. How she wanted her dad’s respect and wanted everyone to see her as Sierra not Davis’s daughter.
Which made her realize that Gage had to be telling her only part of what had really been going on earlier tonight. She believed it had something to do with his dad and his Alzheimer’s but what else was there?
And was it really any of her business?
Tonight, it wasn’t.
She looked back at the screen. “This is the best part. Wait until you see the way they all come together to fight. I love it. They are all these big egos and damaged souls but when the chips are down they just do what needs to be done.”
She noticed he was staring at her.
“Doing what needs to be done is important to you, isn’t it?”
“I think it’s important to everyone,” she said. “Otherwise…well, nothing could ever be completed.”
“I know. No matter how onerous the task is, once I start something I have to finish it.”
He didn’t say anything else until the movie was over but she’d been unable to concentrate on the screen when she had Gage sitting so close to her, making her wonder about the task he had to finish.
*
Talking about his dad always made him edgy and a little angry. The movie was distracting but not enough for him to realize that if Sierra knew the truth she’d…well who really knew what she’d do. But if he heard of someone doing what he was doing, Gage knew he’d think the guy was a loser.
He sighed.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just thinking about how at twenty-five I’m still fighting old insecurities when it comes to my dad,” he said.
She turned to face him on the couch, curling her legs up under her body. “Me too. Don’t laugh but I thought once I turned twenty-one everything was going to magically get better. Like Dad would see me as an adult. Mom would stop trying to make me wear clothes and makeup I didn’t want to, you know?”
“I do. So what kind of clothes does your mom want you to wear?” he asked seizing the distraction. He liked the way Sierra looked in anything, he realized. Even the oversized robe with the sleeves rolled up to her wrists.
“Do you know what Junior League is?” Sierra asked.
“Nope. Not a clue.”
“Thank your lucky stars,” she said, with a wink. “I’m joking. They are a service organization for society woman. I really love the charity part of it but they do have…well according to mom, standards that should be maintained at all times. And a lady should always look like a lady.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Well I can sort of see why you’d say that but imagine dressing like a forty-year-old? I mean dresses and pearls and I don’t mind being a little preppy but twenty-four/seven? No way. I really just like to be me.”
“And your mom doesn’t get it?” he asked. That sounded so much like his relationship with his father.
“She gets it. She doesn’t approve,” Sierra said. “Last time I came back from out of town, she’d purchased an entirely new wardrobe for me and had her housekeeper come over to my house and organize it for me in my closet.”
“That’s crazy.”
“I know. Please tell me I’m not alone in this,” she said.
“No one is concerned with what I wear except for you,” he said. “Apparently you like me in skintight jeans and no shirt.”
She blushed and then just nodded. “I do. And your fans do too. We get a lot of requests for your promotional poster to be sent out to fans who can’t make it to one of the tour stops.”
“Do you do that?”
“Send out the posters?” she asked. He nodded. “Yes, we do. In fact, when you come to Dallas we are probably going to get you and the other rookies to sign a huge stack of the posters for us to keep on hand to send out.”
He shook his head. If anyone had ever told him that people were going to be hanging a poster of him on their wall…well, Gage wouldn’t have believed it.
It shouldn’t have been him on the posters. He knew that’s what his dad would say. It should have been Marty. He stood up and walked away from the couch and from Sierra. Went to the plate-glass windows and stared out, not down at the town below him but up at the night sky.
When he’d been little—six or seven—his grandpa had told him that the deceased were special angels that looked over him. And that had been comforting to Gage after his Memaw had died. He’d liked the thought of her watching over him. But now…was Marty up there looking down on him? He didn’t know.
His Memaw had loved him and doted on him. Told him not to listen to his dad who always offered “constructive criticism” on everything he did. She’d just loved him and made him feel like he was enough.
He and his brother hadn’t been particularly close when he’d died. Gage was the first to admit a lot of that had to do with him and the resentment he’d no longer been able to hide from his brother. He’d done everything that Marty had and done it better. He’d worked hard at school to get better grades. He’d spent hours after the evening chores were done going over tapes of bull riders and sneaking away to practice on the mechanical bull whenever he could.
And none of that had mattered. His dad still didn’t see anything Gage had done and the hero worship he’d always had for Marty had soured and turned to resentment.
“Gage? You okay?” Sierra asked from behind him and he didn’t turn to look at her because right now he felt like a brat. He wished he could go back to his eighteen-year-old self and warn that cocky kid that he wasn’t going to have his older brother around for long.
But he couldn’t. So, he stared up at the sky and wondered what Marty would think of all of this. What do you think, brother? Not just the stuff with Montez Denim, the other bit with his dad watching Gage ride and thinking he was Marty.
He hadn’t heard her move but Sierra wrapped her arms around him from behind, joining her hands together right under his chest, and he felt her rest her head between his shoulder blades.
She didn’t say anything, which was precisely what he needed. She just held him without him having to show her how vulnerable he felt and it meant more to him than he wanted to admit it did.
He patted her hands and closed his eyes, knowing that Sierra meant more to him than he should let her. Because if he knew one thing about himself it was that he was good at being stubborn and holding on to things long after he should have let go. It was the one quality he thought made him so damned good on the back of a bull.
But it also made him pretty horrible at relationships.