Waiting For Yes Read online

  The yawn that gripped her argued violently. Tears sprung to her eyes. If she didn’t stop, she’d be the next headline news story and the reason I-70 shut down before a massive snowstorm.

  She eased onto the brakes and flipped her turn signal as the exit approached. Tick-a-tick, tick-a-tick.

  Several yards behind her the turquoise rig light up with the same right-handed blinking. Lord, this was nonsense. Meeting a strange truck driver, who’d already exhibited some warning signs of stalker material, just didn’t register in the smart department. If her best friend had any idea what she was about to do, Margie would tell Gabrielle she’d lost her mind.

  But Margie wasn’t here. Margie wasn’t the one fighting sleep. Margie hadn’t been on the road almost thirteen straight hours with a psychotic stallion she couldn’t unload for an overnight rest.

  Gabrielle navigated her way through the parking lot around to the rear where the tractor trailers and hauling pickups had to park. She killed the engine and opened her door. The sound of idling diesels filled her ears. Rows of sleeping rigs framed her on both sides, their cabs dark despite their bright exterior illumination.

  She walked around the side of her truck, stood on the wheel well, and peeked through the window of her three-horse slant-load trailer. Inside, beneath the greenish interior light, the liver chestnut stallion pawed and snorted. He let out a long whinny, tossing his flaxen mane about like a range-caught beast. In the next instant, the horse threw his weight forward and bucked for all his worth, nailing the aluminum walls. Two deep hoofprints joined three other sets.

  Damn him. The man who’d sold him under false pretenses deserved to be shot.

  With a heavy sigh, Gabrielle jumped down from the trailer and turned toward the all-night stop’s front doors. Halfway across the lot, three burly, tattoo-covered men blocked her way. She took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and marched forward. Maybe if she pretended not to notice them, they wouldn’t notice her.

  A whistle broke through the rumble of engines.

  Fat chance. At this hour, road-weary men would notice anything with long hair and breasts.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” one of them called out. “I’ve got a room for two waiting on you.”

  Right. Like she’d answer that kind of come-on even if the man were dressed in a three-piece suit.

  Sporting a sweatshirt that had seen better days, the caller rubbed a thick hand over an even thicker mid-section. His buddy said something she couldn’t hear, and the pair erupted in hearty laughter.

  “C’mon, little mama, you know the road’s cold tonight. Let’s warm it up a bit,” the third man barked. “Ain’t no reason to spend a night like this alone.”

  She hesitated. Safety lay in her truck, doors locked, windows rolled up tight. Though she’d been on the road long enough to know truckers had lusty appetites, she didn’t particularly fear physical harm. A slap to her butt wouldn’t be out of the question, but after a grueling thirteen hours on the road, she didn’t possess patience enough to deal with it all. Not tonight, when all she wanted to do was go home.

  Coffee. Must have coffee. She took a determined step forward. The three men clumped together and steered directly toward her. Something about their demeanor, the crookedness of their smiles, the glint in their eyes, sent an apprehensive shiver tumbling down her spine.

  These men weren’t standard-issue truckers, harmless beneath a roughshod exterior.

  They took a collective step closer, their grins morphing into sneers. Gabrielle back-stepped, edging closer to her truck. If they came any nearer, she’d turn and run.

  “There’s my Wildfire. I was wondering how long it would take you to get here. I’ve missed you, sugar.”

  Gabrielle froze as the familiar, gravelly baritone rumbled at her side. Strong fingers clutched her elbow and spun her about. Her heel caught on a patch of ice, and she scrambled to keep her feet beneath her.

  Ghost Ship steadied her, his other hand gripping her waist as he brought her upright.

  When her legs no longer wobbled, he crushed her against a chest that felt like stone and caught her in a giant bear hug. “Work with me here,” he whispered near her ear.

  A man from the trio snorted. “Ghost, you ain’t foolin’ me. You pulled in right behind the little lady.”

  Holding her so close she couldn’t so much as turn her head, his hands spanned her back. Large hands that held protection she couldn’t explain. God, he smelled good. Like spice and orange. She tipped her chin up to catch a closer look at his face. From this distance, however, all she could make out was a thick neck and a chiseled jaw.

  He ignored the men and pushed her out of his embrace far enough she could suck in a deep breath. She caught a brief glimpse of a neat row of white teeth as he smiled.

  “Thanks for meeting me, sugar.”

  In the next instant, his mouth settled over hers.

  Chapter Two

  What the hell?

  Tight-lipped, Gabrielle stiffened. She braced her palms against Ghost Ship’s broad chest and pushed.

  Like steel bands, his arms imprisoned her. “Pretend,” he murmured against her mouth.

  Pretend. All right, so he at least recognized how completely out of line he was. Which made him a fraction better than the chortling men behind her. But kiss a complete stranger? When she didn’t even know what he looked like? Insane.

  The tip of his tongue trailed across the seam of her lips. Warm, moist heat seeped into her, relaxing her arms. Though she kept her palms flat against his hard pecs, ready to shove away in a heartbeat if he so much as moved a wandering hand, she played along with his strange game.

  Nudging at the corners of her mouth, his tongue dipped in to softly glide across hers.

  Oh, wow.

  Gabrielle’s air lodged in her lungs. Peppermint and chocolate. The man tasted like he’d eaten an entire box of Junior Mints. Yummy. And boy did he know how to kiss. Gentle strokes drew her in deeper. It had been years since a man had kissed her this way. Like his singular thought lay with the kiss. As if he could do so forever, never tiring of the velvety caress.

  The scent of his cologne filled her senses. Where her body touched his, heat obliterated the freezing winter gusts and falling snowflakes. One large hand slid up her arm, strong fingers tangled through her hair. He angled her head, deepening the kiss, and something inside Gabrielle splintered into pieces. In a heartbeat’s passing, she went all liquid and pliant, the mind-eroding kiss devastating all rational thought.

  A murmur of pleasure bubbled in the back of her throat.

  Easing away, Ghost Ship caught her lower lip between his teeth and gave her a little nip. Then, he chased away the pinch of pleasure-pain with a chaste brush of soft lips. A lingering caress that seared down into her gut and sent tingles spanning through her veins. He drew back, leaving her gasping to catch her breath.

  Sweet Mary, what the hell just happened?

  Unsteady legs threatened to send her tumbling again. He wrapped a thick arm around her waist and turned her about, her back against his chest. His voice held a warning quality as he addressed the men she now faced. “Get out of here, Damien. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

  The startling kiss clicked into place. He knew the men. Which meant if he’d felt that kind of kiss was necessary to keep them at bay, her instincts were correct. They weren’t everyday, ordinary truckers. Maybe this Ghost Ship wasn’t half-bad after all. If she could just figure out what he looked like…

  She twisted her head. But he was so tall, and she so close, she made out only neatly-cut dark hair and trimmed sideburns that reached the middle of his ears. Snowflakes peppered the short lengths. A hard chin bore a small scar near an almost indistinguishable cleft. Little particles of ice melted against what she could see of the black shirt hugging his shoulders.

  “Go get us a table, sugar. I left my wallet in the truck.” He gave her bottom a light pat, urging her forward.

  All too glad to be free of the nerve-wracki
ng encounter, Gabrielle jogged past the men to the front doors. Inside the diner, her pounding heart settled, and she sucked in a deep breath. She hurried through the retail section, past a long wall of vanity T-shirts, and into the all-night diner. Empty, save for an aging man in the far corner, the diner’s relative quiet soothed her further.

  She claimed a booth near the bathrooms. Leaning her head against the seat back, she closed her eyes. What a night. What a frigging day. From picking up a psychotic horse to this… Lord, all she wanted to do was go back to bed in the Nashville hotel room and start today over. Maybe if she’d said her prayers, today might have turned out better.

  “Sorry about that, outside.”

  Low, husky, Ghost Ship’s voice brought her eyes open and her head upright. Gabrielle blinked.

  Holy cow.

  Handsome didn’t begin to describe him. Six foot, if not a little taller, he stood at her side. The chest she’d already gauged as powerful was a solid mass of muscle. A black short-sleeved T-shirt clung to thick biceps, hiding fragments of a tattoo on his right arm. It tucked into a black belt around a narrow waist. Faded blue jeans pulled tight over thick thighs. The table blocked the rest of his body from view.

  She lifted her eyes to his face and sucked in a silent gasp. Lord…

  Dark hair dusted over his forehead, a loose style that fell with an arrogant swagger. Tanned skin offset Anglican features. Straight nose. High cheekbones highlighted the brightest pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen.

  Gorgeous. And he’d kissed her! Like he’d enjoyed it too. Wow!

  Her mouth dropped in stunned surprise. She quickly snapped it shut and struggled for a smile.

  Without hesitation, he dropped into the seat across from her. His broad frame occupied half the booth. He flashed another smile as he picked up a laminated menu. “Damien and I go back a ways. You didn’t need that kind of harassment, and I knew I could stop it. You won’t hold it against me, will you?”

  Hold it against him? When the most breathtaking man she’d ever seen had kissed her senseless? Hardly. “I guess I owe you my thanks.” She held her hand out. “I’m Gabrielle.”

  “Jake.” He clasped her hand.

  His gaze held hers, and Gabrielle had to fight for air once more. Those blue eyes sparked with interest, then shifted into a slightly darker hue. A strange, unexpected thrill raced up her arm. She swallowed to wet her suddenly dry mouth.

  Slowly, Jake released her hand, but he held on with his lingering gaze. She struggled for words, searched for something intelligent to say. They refused her, leaving her hopelessly stumbling over an idiot’s tongue.

  Appearing at the edge of the table, the waitress broke the spell. She pulled a pencil from her hair and drew Jake’s mesmerizing eyes away. “What’ll it be for the both of you?”

  “Two coffees,” Jake answered. “I’ll take mine black, and she’ll…” He looked to Gabrielle, dark eyebrows lifted.

  “Black also.”

  Normally, she took cream and sugar. Tonight, she’d need every bit of that strong flavor to keep her wits about her if she intended to make it through this quick stop without looking like an absolute fool.

  ****

  Jake Sullivan offered Gabrielle a smile he hoped came across as confident. Damn, his insides whirled like someone had stuffed him in a blender and turned it on high. She’d been cute when he caught a glimpse of her singing to the radio this morning. Pretty when she fueled up on the east side of Kansas City.

  Goddamned breathtaking up close and personal.

  And that mouth of hers—he’d completely forgotten they were standing in the middle of a parking lot until she let out that gut-curling little sound of pleasure.

  “You hungry?” he asked, attempting normality.

  Her grass-green eyes sparked with humor. “Only if you let me buy. I owe you that much.”

  Hardly. He’d have rescued any woman from Damien and his boys. He just wouldn’t have kissed someone else. He hadn’t done something that impulsive since…ever. “That’s not necessary.”

  Her mouth quirked. “Then I’m not eating.”

  Jake let out a soft chuckle. “If you aren’t eating, then I can’t eat, and I’m starved.”

  “Guess you’ll have to let me buy then, huh?” She pushed her long auburn hair over one shoulder and dipped her chin, looking up at him with an impish expression.

  Damn. Never mind the food. If she kept looking at him that way, his groin wouldn’t just be heating. He’d be full bore erect before he could blink. What the hell was the matter with him? It wasn’t like he’d never sat across the table from a drop-dead gorgeous woman. He’d dated a couple models, and their flawless exteriors didn’t have his pulse this erratic over a simple cup of coffee.

  Her eyes twinkled again. The corners of her mouth twitched. “I’m waiting for yes…”

  Exactly what he’d said to her over the radio. Quick-witted. He admired that—it spoke of a playful personality. Very well. He’d pretend to go along with her request. “I guess I can’t say no when you put it that way.”

  “Funny how that works, isn’t it?”

  Over the rim of her coffee mug, her gaze held his, bright and intense. Man, oh man, she had no idea what she was doing to him. If he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn he’d stuck a butter knife in an electric outlet, his nerves stood at such attention. Every single particle of his being was aware of her, all too cognizant of how her gentle curves meshed against his body.

  He flipped open his menu and lowered his gaze to the print, hoping to shake off the ridiculousness of his reaction. She was a stranger. Pretty, yes. Feminine, God yes. But he’d learned long ago the combination didn’t necessarily lead to happiness. Once, he wouldn’t have cared. But somewhere around the time he turned thirty, he decided to take his time and get to know a woman before giving in to the pull of chemistry.

  “So…” He paused as he pretended to study the menu he already knew by heart. “You’re hauling a horse?”

  “Yep.”

  He peeked over the top of his menu. “And you haven’t stopped to offer it water in the thirteen hours you’ve been driving?” Inwardly, he cringed. Damn it all, that sounded like a lecture. Not cool, Sullivan. He waited for her smile to vanish, held his breath as he braced for a curt reply.

  As predicted, the light in her eyes dimmed as her brows drew together. But she merely blew out a breath.

  “Yeah, well, that’s a long story. Surely you heard him carrying on in the trailer when you pulled up?”

  Jake shook his head. “Didn’t hear anything over my engine. Besides, I was too busy trying to figure out how to sidetrack Damien.” He offered her the first relaxed smile he’d mustered since he’d smothered her with an impulsive kiss. “We’ve got time.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but the waitress’ sudden appearance stifled Gabrielle’s words.

  “Are you ready to order?”

  Jake folded his menu closed and looked across the table, waiting.

  “I’ll have the grilled ham and cheese.” Gabrielle handed her menu to the woman.

  “Fries, coleslaw, or apple sauce?”

  “Fries.” Her gaze slid back to Jake’s, a smile curving the corners of her full mouth.

  Jake nodded. “I’ll take your country fried steak with mashed potatoes.” He set his menu in the waitress’s outstretched hand.

  “Coming right up.” She turned on one heel, her turquoise skirt flaring out behind her as she headed for the metallic door that led to the kitchen.

  Clasping his hands before him on the table, Jake leaned on his elbows and fixed Gabrielle with an interested look. “You were saying?”

  “Oh. Yes.” The touch of color that slipped into her cheeks highlighted her eyes’ unusual green. “He’s not quite right in the head.”

  The pleasant sensations bubbling through him skidded to an abrupt halt. His gut clenched uncomfortably. The phrase brought back long-suppressed memories. He should stop now. He didn’t want
to hear the rest. He already knew the words. She felt sorry for the animal. No one had given the horse a chance before. A little training, a little kindness, and she’d turn his behavior around.

  In turn, the horse would try to kill her.

  “What do you mean?” he heard himself ask.

  Gabrielle let out another heavy sigh. The puff of air stirred a stray lock of auburn hair. She reached a slender hand up and pushed the fiery tendril behind her ear. “This is embarrassing.”

  Jake nodded. It usually was when bleeding heart horsewomen realized they’d gotten in over their heads.

  “I did my research carefully.” She scraped a nail against the tabletop, then flicked off a piece of peeling lacquer.

  Something else he’d heard as well. He nodded again, the knot in his gut tightening.

  “I asked all the right questions. Reviewed video. Looked up performance records, looked up his offspring’s history. Everything matched up. The price was…affordable. A little high, but worth the investment.”

  His eyebrows knit together in a tight frown. Performance records indicated training of some sort. Offspring records indicated he translated to stallion. Jake’s stomach churned as an image of his mother flashed in his memory. He needed to change the subject. Now.

  For some reason, he couldn’t. “And?”

  “And I got swindled. The sellers failed to inform me that He’s all boy meant He’s psychotic.”

  Jake’s air came out in a low whistle. Now that he hadn’t expected to hear. But it didn’t explain why she’d loaded the creature instead of leaving him behind and demanding her money back. “You didn’t refuse him?”

  Her cheeks turned crimson. She lowered her gaze as she fidgeted in her seat. “I didn’t know until about an hour into the ride.”

  He quirked an eyebrow.

  She glanced up, then quickly back to her lap. “When the drugs wore off, he kicked the crap out of my trailer going down the highway. I pulled over and tried to calm him down, and he…well…let’s just say he didn’t want any part of my getting in that trailer with him.”