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The Wildest Ride--A Novel

Page 22

by Marcella Bell


  “Them and us both.”

  AJ turned around, finishing up with the top buttons before tucking his shirt in his jeans and around his still rather obvious erection.

  He followed her gaze and his smile turned predatory.

  He said, “Don’t you worry about me. I’ll settle right out after a few hours in the saddle.”

  Lil burned red but didn’t shy away. “I’d expect as much. Nothing much different about you from any other mammal.”

  He just laughed and pulled his boots on.

  Lil headed over to get dressed herself. If her movements lacked her usual grace, they made up for it by not being unbearable.

  She pulled her jeans on, followed by a simple button-up with a paisley pattern and classic Western piping. The print and accent color were both a dark peach and the buttons had an opalescent sheen.

  AJ made sure he noted its fanciness with a raised eyebrow, but otherwise made no comment. Lil could hear his thoughts anyway, and they just made her puff out her chest.

  Once dressed, she began to finger comb through her curls. A glance his direction told her AJ was watching, attention rapt on her fingertips.

  Her hair bounding free, was riotous and thick despite her undercut. It sprang every which way, defying and escaping her hands before it ultimately submitted to her will.

  * * *

  They packed up camp and saddled up together in quiet, letting the sounds of the morning prairie wash over them while the cows grazed drowsily, evidently not in any rush to get moving to greener pasture. It was companionable in a way Lil hadn’t ever experienced, not even with Piper—the first and only employee Granddad had let her hire on. Piper’s room and board was included as part of her salary, and she didn’t make much, but that Lil’s grandparents had let her stay, a young woman fresh out of the penitentiary without a ranch skill to her name, that they let that young woman be the one Lil chose to bring on and pay when resources were so scarce had been no small act of trust.

  These days Piper knew the ins and outs of the ranch well enough to be trusted with working it while Lil was away and had started a fledgling horse breeding program at the ranch that she hoped would one day bring supplemental income, though it was still in its infancy. Or rather, not quite in its infancy, but in its gestation.

  Piper’s pride and joy mare, Reckoning, was pregnant. Piper had the touch with the horses, and Lil loved her to pieces.

  There was a different peace with AJ, though, and she realized it was full trust. He might act lighthearted and carefree, but he was serious about the things he loved.

  Lil turned her horse toward the back of the herd.

  “Oh no. Where do you think you’re going?”

  Lil nodded toward the cows. “Was planning on taking flank to start out with before doing a stint as drag.”

  AJ shook his head. “I don’t think so. You’re lead today. I’ll take the back.”

  Lil frowned. “You’re a bit green to take on the whole rear.”

  He snickered and Lil realized too late what she’d said.

  “Don’t you worry, Lil.” He smiled. “I can take the whole rear. I can even spank it if you want me, too.”

  Lil mustered the driest look she could, considering the moist heat building up in unmentionable places, and said, “Does your mother know you talk to women like that?”

  “Nope. And I’d deny it if you told her. She teaches Spanish and Women’s Studies at a community college in Houston. She’d have my hide.”

  Lil whistled. “Smart lady.”

  AJ nodded. “And terrifying.”

  “It’s not attractive for a grown man to be afraid of his mother.”

  “You just wait until you meet my mother before you go passing judgments.”

  Lil wasn’t entirely sure if he was serious or not and didn’t press, though a laugh slipped out.

  She wouldn’t be meeting his mother.

  A strange pang in her chest followed the thought, but she shrugged it off, instead nosing her horse toward the flank once more.

  “I was serious.” AJ’s voice came from behind, carrying all of its usual relaxed confidence, but different somehow—like a steel rod ran through its center. It rang of finality and the hairs on the back of Lil’s neck stood up.

  Nobody told her what to do.

  “Excuse you?” she asked, turning her horse around to face him.

  He had his cowboy hat back on and it was almost too much for her with the gorgeous green of his shirt and his perfect jawline. Her stomach did a somersault.

  “You’re riding lead today, and if you’re really so concerned about making up for lost time, I suggest you get up there quick and get us started.”

  They stared each other down, both mounted and stubborn on the horizon, brown eyes meeting gray.

  They would have been on more equal footing if she hadn’t had to look up at him. Even when she was on a horse, he towered over her.

  He wasn’t going to budge—she knew it, whether it was from the set of his shoulders or the look in his eye. He’d throw the competition before giving in. She felt it in her gut as if she was inside his mind as he thought it.

  She broke the stare and blew air through her nose in frustration.

  “Fine,” she said.

  She turned her horse toward the front and grumbled, “Holler if you need help.”

  AJ said to her back, “If you’re to be believed, I’ve got all the skill I need.”

  Lil ignored him, focusing instead on catching the lead of the cows.

  Like everything else with these cows, or rather, almost everything, the process was easy. She’d seen her granddad do it so many times that the motions were familiar, comfortable, and practiced as if she’d been doing it for decades, rather than for the first time today.

  It wasn’t lost on her that this moment, too, was another forgotten dream coming true. Or that she owed that fact to AJ.

  The sun rose fully, a bright greeting of orange and yellow, and the cows followed close behind her. Picking up the pace as the light improved, she got them moving at a nice clip, cows, horses, and cowboys happy and content.

  They rode like that for a few hours before AJ made his way toward the front.

  Lil twisted around in the saddle to check the cows before turning to him. “What’s up? You want to switch?”

  He shook his head, not losing any of his speed. “No. Lonesome back there is all.”

  Lil rolled her eyes. “Get back there.”

  “Nah. The cows are fine.”

  “And that means you need to be up here because?”

  “How else am I going to get to know you better?”

  Lil wondered if she could blow out her blush mechanism. Was that possible? Could a human blush too much in a twenty-four-hour span? She didn’t know, but she had a feeling that she’d find out before the day was over.

  23

  Lil’s face was priceless.

  She’d turned beet red and looked deeply insulted that he wanted to get to know her better. It was the cutest thing he’d seen since D’s cousin had had a baby.

  “What’s your favorite color?” He couldn’t help himself.

  She sputtered, “Whatever color it takes to get you back into your position.”

  AJ looked back over his shoulder. The cows were contentedly following along, possibly even in a tighter bunch now that they had two strong leads to follow.

  “They’re fine. What do you hate?”

  Lil raised an eyebrow. “Hate?”

  AJ nodded. “My mom says dislikes say more about a person than anything else.”

  The corners of her mouth tugged up into a smile and she said, “Tomatoes.”

  He pulled back on his reins. “What? Nobody hates tomatoes.”

  Lil let out a full-throated laugh, and the sound of it partial
ly soothed the fact that she didn’t like tomatoes. Who didn’t like tomatoes?

  “Careful what you ask for...” she admonished.

  “That’s for sure. I had no idea I was riding with a monster.”

  She snorted, offering, “You could just go back and watch the rear.”

  “You won’t get rid of me that easy.”

  She snapped her fingers. “Darn.”

  AJ laughed, “It was all a ruse, then.”

  “Not at all. I really don’t like tomatoes.”

  His shoulders slumped. “Fine.”

  “Cheer up, buddy.”

  He brightened. “What about pico de gallo?” Hope beat in his chest.

  She shook her head. “Not even pico.”

  Hope died.

  She wasn’t perfect. Neither was he. He could live with a tomato hater. “To each his own,” he finally said.

  She gave him a shrewd look. “Had to come to terms with that one, didn’t you?”

  He nodded solemnly. “Nobody’s perfect.”

  She laughed again. The sound was bright in the early sunlight. Behind them, the cows mooed. She’d taken a serious beating and come back up laughing. He had to admire that.

  He asked, “How do you feel today?”

  She thought for a moment before she said, “Stiff. Sore.” Then she grinned and leaned in to add, “Good enough to get through the rest of the day.”

  He hadn’t been worried. He knew her well enough already to know she wouldn’t quit.

  She had literal smudges of dirt on her face, but the fine bones of her face, her round nose, and heavily lashed almond-shaped eyes, steadfastly declared her resilience.

  As he stared, he noted that her body resisted the rhythm of the horse in a way it hadn’t yesterday. She was favoring her left side and her neck was as rigid as a tree trunk. She was making up for her upper body’s stiffness with the strength and flexibility of her legs, which were, fortunately, more than up to the task. They were surprisingly long for her lack of height, and perfectly formed. She held the reins with her hands, but he could see that it was her legs and seat that were guiding the horse.

  Clearing his throat, he said, “We don’t need first. We both have enough points that we can afford a second place. You shouldn’t push it after yesterday.”

  She threw him a look that said exactly what she thought about that, and he couldn’t say it didn’t turn him on. She went all in, or not at all, just like he did.

  She said, “It’ll take a few more falls before I’m ready to ‘take a second place,’ thank you very much.”

  AJ laughed. She’d actually said ‘thank you very much.’ Because he couldn’t help himself, he said, “Well, there’s no need to push it,” when he’d always pushed it. “We’re almost done with the competition and your top spot is secure. No use killing yourself. When all is said and done you’re going back to your ranch and never going to bring any of this up again.” The sentence echoed back at him hollowly.

  Regardless of who won, when all was said and done, they’d both return to their respective homes. She would be happier to do that than be recognized as the first world-class female bull rider, and he would end up back in Houston, his belt buckle hung up on the wall, ready to dive into coaching. It was a fitting, if anticlimactic, end for a retired champion bull rider.

  “More use killing you for suggesting such a thing,” she retorted, unaware of the undercurrents sweeping through him.

  “Have you ever been to Houston?” he asked, changing the subject.

  She shook her head. “Outside the qualifier, no.”

  “You should come with me sometime. The food is delicious.”

  “I heard it’s a bit dangerous.”

  “No more dangerous than climbing on top of three thousand pounds of animal that doesn’t want you to be there.”

  “Bulls don’t have guns.”

  “Bulls don’t need them. Houston gets a bad rap—it’s a great place.”

  “Says the man who started bull riding as an at-risk youth?”

  AJ snorted. “I wasn’t an ‘at-risk’ youth. I was just angry. My parents were both college professors.”

  Lil looked taken aback. “Professors? I thought you were some kind of reformed troublemaker.”

  Her comment earned a full-blown laugh. “Not me. That’s Diablo.”

  “Diablo?”

  “You’ll meet him.”

  “Oh, I will?”

  AJ ignored her arched eyebrow, saying, “He and I were both in the first cohort. Diablo was there by order of a judge. I was by my mom.”

  Lil chuckled to herself. “Because you were an angry twelve-year-old? Your mom was hard-core.”

  “No, she—” AJ stopped with a frown. He didn’t generally get this deep into how he got into bull riding.

  Lil watched him expectantly and he wondered what he was going to tell her. That his dad had died and it had been AJ’s fault, but that it’d happened when he still hated his dad for breaking their family apart? It was a part of his story he didn’t share with people, but the words were on the tip of his tongue.

  Rather than let them out, he said, “She knew I needed a big outlet. My dad had died and I had a lot of anger.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Her low voice went even huskier with empathy and the growling thing inside of him found the effect was strangely soothing.

  He smiled. “The bulls worked. I was hooked right away. Fortunately, I had a knack for it and that’s all it took. Drive, knack, practice, and the rest is history.” He was proud of how he muscled the story back to its normal track of general positivity, emphasizing that anyone could do what he had done.

  Lil said, “I’m sorry your dad died.”

  He shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Hard for a kid.” She was a terrier, even when she didn’t realize it.

  He looked away. “Hard for anyone.”

  “And Diablo?”

  “He was a delinquent and the judge was a redneck.”

  Lil snorted. “That sounds like a country song.”

  “He’s a lawyer now.”

  “Fancy.”

  “He thinks so.”

  “What did your dad teach?” she asked.

  She was good, keeping him off balance by jumping around.

  “He taught Chicano Literature at the University of Houston.”

  Lil whistled. “Really fancy.”

  “He thought so, too. Thought so so much that he couldn’t fathom why my mom would leave her position teaching Spanish there to go take a leadership position at a community college.” The words poured out from his mouth, unplanned and far too revealing.

  Lil’s eyebrows drew together. “Her job sounds fantastic, though.”

  “It is,” AJ agreed. “It’s perfect for her. It didn’t fit his sense of pedigree, though.”

  “And so he divorced her?” As usual, Lil’s expression and voice gave her away. She didn’t approve.

  He appreciated not having to play guessing games.

  “No,” he said. “She divorced him after he decided to soothe his bruised ego and thinning hair by having an affair with a graduate student.”

  They rode a few yards in silence before she spoke again. “That’s so cliché.”

  It wasn’t what AJ had been expecting and it broke the tension in his chest. “I said as much to him. At a high volume.”

  “I would’ve been angry, too.”

  She didn’t say she was sorry for something she had nothing to do with. She didn’t pat him on the head. She didn’t brush him off as a temperamental kid.

  He surprised himself by saying, “It got worse.”

  “How so?”

  He looked away, eyes scanning the horizon. “One night I got mad enough to tell him what I thought.”

>   She winced and he sensed it was empathy, rather than mere sympathy. Somehow it wasn’t hard to imagine her in a similar position, shouting things she’d later regret. The thought made him feel less alone, even though he imagined she was the kind of person who came back and apologized once she’d cooled down. He’d never quite gotten that down.

  He said, “I stormed out of the house at the same time as a storm rolled in. He came out after me. I stomped through the rain and blew off steam for a few hours. He got caught in a flash flood and died. So then in addition to being angry about what he’d done, I was angry about what I’d done. I carried it with me everywhere I went.”

  Again, Lil let the words sink in before she spoke. Yet again, when she finally said something, it wasn’t what he was expecting. “Bulls make sense, then. Smart woman, your mom.”

  AJ shook his head and laughed, feeling somehow lighter than he had before. “You really take the whole cowboy thing to the next level.”

  “I don’t take any ‘thing’ anywhere.”

  “That’s why it works so well.”

  She threw her arms up. “This is what I get for helping people.”

  “No. This is what you get for your grandma helping people. You wouldn’t even be here if she hadn’t signed you up.”

  She looked like she wanted to shake her fist at him, but decided to smile and shrug instead. “Same thing.”

  “Is it?” he poked.

  She frowned. “I owe that woman everything.”

  “I have a feeling she doesn’t see it that way.”

  Lil looked away this time. “I’m guessing she didn’t plan on burying her daughter or raising her granddaughter. People look forward to retirement.”

  “Not all people. If she’s anything like you—” and he thought she might be “—I suspect that she didn’t.”

  “I was a handful,” she said.

  One side of his mouth quirked up and his eyes dropped to her saddle. “I know.”

  She blushed and his grin stretched wider. Every reaction was all up-front with her.

  “You’re impossible,” she said. It was a refrain he loved the sound of.

 

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