by Maisey Yates
Ryder had managed to turn the place into a profitable full-time operation, and some of that was the willingness of Logan and Rose to work for free for a while. But now they were all doing decently well, and it was one of those things that Logan couldn’t help but...
One of the weird-ass things in his life that was difficult to sort out.
He missed his mom. Every damn day. She had been his only parent. The only one he never needed. Didn’t matter who the hell his biological father was. He didn’t care.
Jane Heath had been all the influence and love he had needed. She had given him everything.
And losing her had been a blow he hadn’t thought he could live through. The guilt that went along with it was a gift in some ways. Because he’d had to keep going since she couldn’t.
His heart had to keep beating for her, because he owed it to her. And there was no amount of time he could put in that would ever make it right.
And this time of year...when the weather got cold and people got merry, it just reminded him of every step that had gone into creating that tragedy.
Of presents that had turned into curses.
Losing her had shaped him. Was the reason he was sitting here now on a horse.
Her loss had made him the man he was and he supposed that was the very best tribute he could offer. Even if it did make everything he did, everything he was, chafe like a son of a gun sometimes.
Tragedy felt so wound up in the good things in his life that he didn’t know how to separate it.
“There you are.”
He turned and saw Rose riding up on her paint, her cowgirl hat pulled down low on her head, her ponytail flying in the wind. She was wearing a battered old ranch jacket that was unzipped, revealing a scoop-neck top underneath. And with every motion the horse made, he could see a hint of soft, pale flesh.
Damn.
He blamed last night. He blamed holding her in his arms.
And even more, he blamed the look of confusion on her face when he had shifted his hand over her waist.
He had recognized what was happening. That there was a spark underneath that touch. That if he kept going, created the right friction, a spark could become a flame. But she didn’t recognize it.
A blessing.
Still, it didn’t do anything to ease the fire banked in his gut. Great for her that she didn’t know what the hell it could become. Great for them both.
“I figured you’d know where I would be,” he said.
“Well, I need your help,” she said. “I was moving hay and something in the damn tractor blew. I’ve got it taken apart, but I’m having trouble identifying the problem.”
“If you can’t fix it, I doubt I’m going to be able to figure it out. We’re probably going to have to call Dan Swift out.”
“Yeah, probably. Still, if you could go have a look before we do that.”
“Sure.”
“Have you eaten?”
He hesitated. “No.”
“I brought food. Because I figured that was probably the case if you are out here driving cattle. You know, you shouldn’t do that by yourself.”
“It was a pretty short move.”
“Still. If one of them decides to break off...”
“I know what I’m doing,” he said, testier than he intended to.
“I didn’t say you didn’t,” she said, dismounting her horse and reaching into one of the saddlebags in the back. She produced sandwiches. And bags of chips. And soda. And then he found he couldn’t be as irritated with her as he wanted to be.
“You going to tie her up?” He indicated her mare.
“No. I’m going to let her graze for a minute.”
He shrugged his shoulders and dismounted, leaving his gelding to do the same. Rose plopped down, right there in the field, a testament to how comfortable she was with the place. Not worried about cows or cow pies.
This ranch would have always been Rose’s reality. But he wondered... He did wonder if she would have decided to work here if she’d still had her parents.
She liked to help people. Maybe she’d have gone to school. Gotten into medicine or teaching. He could see her excelling in either field. She was tireless, relentless and good down to her soul.
She took all that and poured it into the ranch, but where else could she have channeled that?
And he didn’t need to know the answer to that. There was no point pushing for that kind of discussion. Not now. Not when he should be shoving his sandwich down as quickly as possible and getting back to work.
“So,” Rose said around a mouthful of sandwich. “Did you get lucky?”
Heat crept up the back of his neck like fire burning along a line of gunpowder. “Excuse me?”
“With the blonde,” she said, still chewing. “You were very friendly with her.”
“Are you asking me if I had sex?” He asked the question baldly, making deliberate eye contact with her. And was gratified when she looked away.
“I guess so.” She sounded a little bit shamed, but also stubborn. And he could tell that she was in no kind of mood to back down.
That was the problem with Rose. The problem and the beauty of her all at the same time.
Her name was well suited to her.
He had often thought the other two girls had been saddled with albatrosses when it came to their names. Iris had basically been born the old maiden aunt. Pansy had a name that was so opposed to who she was as a person, a tough-talking police chief. The name added a layer of difficulty to her life. Combined with the fact that she was petite and a woman, she tended to have trouble getting taken seriously in her chosen profession anyway.
Rose, on the other hand...
She was beautiful. Even sitting there with her knees up, her forearms resting on them as she ate her sandwich. Wearing practical jeans and that top that was offering him tempting views of skin he shouldn’t be thinking about.
The wind whipped up then, blowing strands of light brown hair over her face. Beautiful just like her namesake. Her lips were a pale pink that reminded him of the flower, too. And looked soft as velvet.
But she had thorns.
Often, he gave thanks for those thorns. Because they were what made Rose resilient enough to get through the hard times that life had dumped onto her.
But right now, they were kind of a pain in his ass. It was that part of her that didn’t back down. And right now, he kind of wanted her to back down.
He could lie to her. He could tell her that he had. It would destroy any camaraderie in the moment, and he wasn’t sure why he was so certain of that. But something told him she would be upset if he had.
But he hadn’t.
He hadn’t wanted that woman. Not with the memory of Rose in his arms so close to the surface. He’d thought it might be convenient if he could.
But at that point he’d realized that if he was trying to put an effort toward wanting a woman it was a lost cause. He’d just kept on dancing with her to keep some distance between himself and the object of his torture.
He managed to deal with Rose just fine in general. Every so often things whipped up to the surface. Typically when physical contact was involved.
But he’d been coping pretty well for the last couple of years.
He’d struggled for a while with the initial, skin-crawling disgust of finding himself attracted to his best friend’s younger sister. A woman he’d known since she was a child. And now, it wasn’t about that.
The thing was, he’d been working with Rose since she was sixteen. And he’d watched her change. There was no doubt in his mind that she was a woman. Tough and capable, with a clear-eyed view of the world.
In many ways.
It was the way she didn’t see the world at all that concerned him.
She had lost both of her parents.
She had dealt with bringing calves into the world, and burying them when they didn’t make it. She’d cut herself on barbed wire, dislocated a shoulder hefting bales of hay and he’d watched her walk off a particularly nasty literal kick in the butt from a spooked horse.
He’d also damn near crawled out of his skin when she had lowered the waistband of her denim and shown him the deep purple circle left on one plump cheek the next day.
She hadn’t thought anything of it.
He’d thought an awful lot of it.
And it was the fact she hadn’t hesitated to show him that shamed him down to his soul. Because she felt like he was family, clearly.
He did not.
He also couldn’t bring himself to lie to her, even if the better part of valor would’ve been to lie. Disappoint her. Make her angry. Make her contend with the fact that it made her angry.
“No,” he said.
“You could have,” she pointed out.
Well, there she was being observant.
“I could have,” he agreed.
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t just have sex whenever I feel like it,” he said, continuing to speak in bold, frank terms, because he wondered at what point she might get uncomfortable and back down.
“Why not?”
It was a genuine question. She looked confused.
“For a lot of reasons.”
“I mean, I thought you did. Iris and I were talking about it last night.”
This conversation was just getting weirder.
“You and Iris were...talking about it.”
“How it doesn’t really seem fair that you and Jake and Ryder and Colt can just kind of hook up willy-nilly and for some reason we can’t.”
“Did anyone say you can’t?”
“I guess not.”
He was ready to change the subject.
“Do you do it because you’re lonely?”
“What the hell?”
“I’m genuinely curious.”
“I do it because it feels good,” he said.
“Okay. So why don’t you do it sometimes?”
He wanted out of this conversation, and quick. Rose was fascinated because she had no experience, and maybe if she knew...maybe if she knew the truth she’d shut the hell up.
“Sometimes it makes you more lonely, Rose. There you have it. That’s the truth of it. When you’re a dumb, dense guy and all the blood rushes down below your belt you can forget. For a while. Then you finish. And you just feel... emptier than when you started.”
Now he wished he would’ve just asked her if she’d always wanted to be a cowgirl. It would’ve been a hell of a lot more innocuous than this. He’d wanted to make her uncomfortable, but he was the one who felt exposed.
“Then why do you do it?”
“Because sometimes it’s worth it. To feel good for a minute.”
“Maybe I should try it.”
He bit back the immediate denial. He didn’t know what the hell she was playing at. And because he wasn’t sure, it was best that he just kept his opinions to himself.
“Nothing to say?” She put the last piece of her sandwich in her mouth and tore open her bag of chips.
“Do you require my opinion?”
“No. But you usually give it anyway.”
“All right, fine,” he said, her bright determination finally taking hold of him right where he didn’t want. Because the idea of her going out and... “Here’s my opinion.”
She rubbed her hands together in mock glee. “Oh, goody. I can’t imagine what I would have done without it.”
“You don’t know what the hell you want. You think sex and you think romance.”
She sniffed. “I do not.”
“Well, you know what you don’t think? About the reality of it. About the fact you’re going to have to decide that some guy in that bar is good enough to put his hands on you. That he can touch you, see you naked. Take you back to his place or his truck or whatever. You aren’t thinking about the fact you’re talking about someone being inside you, Rose.” He let their eyes meet, and he held them. “Skin to skin. But more. Inside.”
He didn’t know how the hell he managed to look at her because his stomach was burning. His whole damn body was burning.
Her face had turned a deep shade of red, and she clenched her hands into fists. “Sex isn’t a fantasy, Rose, it’s physical. Hands and mouths and teeth.”
“Teeth?”
He ground his own together. “You’re not ready if that shocks you.”
She picked at crumbs in the bottom of her chip bag. He was sure that he must have terrified her a little bit. God knew he’d tested himself to the limit with that speech because he was tempted to answer all the questions he’d seen raised in her eyes.
“I’m sorry that you’re lonely,” she said.
He huffed and took a bite of his sandwich. “Everyone is lonely sometimes. It’s just part of life.”
Not one he wanted to talk about. And he sure as hell didn’t want her pity. This wasn’t supposed to be about him.
“I know,” she said. “I don’t want you to be lonely. I don’t want Iris to be lonely.”
“It’s not your responsibility.”
“You took responsibility for me,” she insisted.
“Why are you so worked up about that right now?”
“I told you. I was kind of just realizing...how much time passed. How much time you all invested in me.”
“Because Iris is the last remaining single? Well. Other than me. And other than you.”
“You know I caught Ryder and Sammy kissing,” she said.
It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. But then, he had no idea what to expect out of this conversation at all.
“They kiss all the time.”
“No. I mean before anybody knew they hooked up.”
“I’ll stop you there. Because I knew they hooked up the night they did it.”
“How?” She looked slightly infuriated by that.
“I happened to be sitting out on the porch when Sammy came out doing her walk of shame.” Yeah, he’d been sitting out on the porch in the dark and the cold, on a clear July night, staring at the stars and asking why the hell he had the bad fortune to have a fixation on Rose’s body. There had been no answers forthcoming.
Instead, Sammy had come stumbling out the door, looking rattled, her hair a wild tangle that spoke volumes about what she had just been up to.
And given that he had suspected for a long time that his friend was in love with her, it hadn’t taken an emotional genius to figure it out.
“Oh,” Rose said, looking genuinely deflated. “I thought I was the first one to know.”
“Sorry, kid.” He emphasized that word. Anything to put distance between them. “I told you, I know about chemistry. I know about sex. Sorry if it bothers you that I might be a step ahead of you when it comes to this sort of thing.”
“You’re going to lose our bet,” she said. “You’re halfway to losing already.”
She pitched forward and nudged him with her elbow, and he drew back. She looked up at him like he had said something mean. And he immediately regretted that reflex. The whole point of not touching Rose was to avoid hurting her.
“Yeah. Too bad I’m a sore loser.” He decided to cover it up by making it seem like his concern was the bet.
“We never established what was going to happen if you win,” she said.
“I thought you were so confident you didn’t need to make allowances for the potential of me winning.”
“To be totally fair, I have to. So. How about if I lose, then you teach me what you know about relationships,” she said.
He nearly choked on the damn sandwich. “Relationships?”
“All
right. Chemistry and stuff. The things that you seem to think that I don’t understand.”
His chest went tight, his airway constricting. And all the blood in his body rushed down south of his belt. And just like he’d warned Rose, it was really hard to think when a man didn’t have any blood in his brain. And currently, he was struggling. Struggling to form a coherent thought. Struggling to remember why it was a bad idea to pull her into his arms and teach her about chemistry here and now.
To explain to her exactly what it was she felt when he had touched her on the waist.
Because he had seen it.
She’d been confused. And she had looked at him like he was a stranger. She might not know why that was, but he did. In that moment, she had wanted him. Had wanted more of his hands on her body. More of his touch.
And he sure as hell had wanted to follow that line of inquiry that had flashed through her eyes.
Had wanted to answer all the questions he’d seen there. Questions he knew she didn’t even realize she had.
But he wouldn’t. He hadn’t then, he wouldn’t now.
“Sure,” he said, his voice rough, knowing he wouldn’t do anything of the kind, but also knowing he was not in a position to issue any denials at the moment, either. “Not saying you’ll like the lesson. It’ll involve you admitting you’re wrong.”
“If I lose,” she said. “But if I don’t lose I’m not wrong.”
“But then who will tell you about teeth?”
Her cheeks went cherry again and he knew he’d overstepped. But this whole day was an overstep and it was her damn fault. He almost wanted her to win the bet.
It wasn’t a good idea for him to explain anything to her.
Hell, eating a sandwich with her didn’t feel safe.
Everything with her was thorny right about now. Just like the name.
“Then you have yourself a deal.”
“Great.”
But he didn’t mean it. Nothing about this was great. But he lost control somewhere back there. Back where, he didn’t know. Maybe he’d lost it longer ago than he realized. Maybe he hadn’t been doing as good of a job pushing his attraction for her back as he’d imagined.