Crazy, Stupid Love

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Crazy, Stupid Love Page 10

by K. L. Grayson

She lets out a breath, and I picture her smiling. “I know you would.”

  “Are you going to be out late?”

  “No. Maybe a few more hours at the most.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you at home.”

  Home. Never thought I’d associate that word with a woman.

  We end the call, and Chloe tilts her head and smiles at me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “What did Adley want?” she asks.

  “How do you know I was talking to Adley?”

  “Because you only get that dopey look on your face when you’re talking about her.”

  “Who’s Adley?” Rose asks, her eyes darting between me and Chloe.

  Chloe gives me a you tell her look, and I frown.

  “She’s my…girlfriend.” The word falls from my lips more easily than I expected, and Chloe beams.

  Rose’s eyebrows raise. “Girlfriend? I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

  “For about five months now,” Chloe answers. “She’s super sweet.”

  “Wow.” Rose’s smile is a little too bright. “That’s great. Congratulations, Linc. I’m happy for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, what did she want?” Chloe asks.

  “She invited me to come hang out with some of her friends. But I told her I was busy helping you.”

  Chloe’s jaw drops. “What? No. Go hang out. Rose and I can get the rest of my stuff. Right, Rose?”

  “Yeah, sure. Absolutely. You should go.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” Chloe laughs. She grabs my shoulders and pushes me toward the door. “Call her back and tell her you’re on your way. Better yet, surprise her. Girls love that shit.”

  I hesitate, and Chloe gives me a final shove out the door. “Go.”

  I’ve been to The Broken Boot more times than I can count. It’s the go-to place after a bull ride, the best place to get a killer basket of chicken wings, and it’s where I saw Adley for the very first time.

  Old man Joe stops me as soon as I walk through the front door. “Heya, Lincoln,” he bellows, clapping me on the back. “It’s been a while. How ya doin’, boy?”

  “Can’t complain.” I scan the crowd for Adley and her group of friends, but come up empty.

  “That’s good. I hear you’re helping Roy out down at The Barn. Any chance we’ll see you back in the arena anytime soon?”

  “Nah, probably not. But you never know.”

  He shakes his head, looking disappointed. “That’s a shame. The boys these days have nothing on you and that Allen boy.”

  “Well, they’ve got deep pockets and sponsors.”

  “Yeah, well, that’ll only get ya so far.” He takes a drink of his beer. “You meetin’ somebody here? I ain’t seen anyone from The Barn walk in tonight.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t see her.”

  “There’s a whole group of people in back.”

  “Thanks.” I pat Joe on the shoulder.

  “Don’t be a stranger.”

  I nod and turn for the back of the bar. I hear Adley’s infectious laugh before I see her. When I walk around the corner, my eyes are drawn directly to her. Head tipped back, she’s laughing at something someone said, and I stop so I can watch her. She must sense my presence, or feel my gaze, because she lowers her head and turns toward me.

  Somehow her smile grows when she sees me, and then she’s out of her chair, walking across the room, ignoring whatever the guy next to her was saying. Fucking hell, she’s beautiful. Her long dark hair falls down her shoulders in loose waves. She’s wearing jeans, a tattered concert T-shirt and a pair of chucks, and she’s never looked as gorgeous as she does right now. And for the first time in five months, I can touch her and kiss her, and it doesn’t matter who’s watching because she’s mine.

  Adley stops in front of me and opens her mouth to say something, but I cup her face in my hands and slant my mouth over hers. Soft hands wrap around my neck, curling into my hair. She presses her body against mine. We hear a few catcalls, and when I pull back, she rubs a finger over her bottom lip.

  “What was that for?”

  “Because I wanted to. And I can.”

  “Well, feel free to do that any time,” she says with a smile. “What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it.”

  “Chloe didn’t mind me bailing on her a little early.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “I was helping her move. She has to be out of student housing by the end of the month.”

  Her smile falls. “Lincoln, why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve helped.”

  “That’s why I didn’t tell you. You needed to study.”

  “Now I feel bad. I never would’ve pulled you away if I’d known that’s what you were doing.”

  “It’s okay.” I kiss her forehead, and she sighs. “We got the majority of it done. She only has a few more things left to get. She actually insisted I come.”

  Adley purses her lips and nods, although I can tell she stills feels bad about it. “Thank you for being here. It means a lot to me.” She grabs my hand and glances back at the table. “Would you like to meet my friends?”

  “I’d love to.”

  Lacing her fingers with mine, Adley leads me to the group. “Lincoln, this is Emily, Jack, Tyler, Phillip, and you already know Abby.” She points to each one as she introduces them. They all smile, and Abby waves. “Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Lincoln.”

  “Boyfriend?” Jack looks taken aback. “I didn’t know you were dating anyone.”

  There it is. I knew these fuckers wanted to get into her pants. But my Adley looks up at me adoringly. Her smile takes my breath away. I don’t know what I did to deserve this woman, but I’m not letting her go.

  “We’ve been seeing each other for about five months,” she says.

  Jack’s eyes linger on Adley a little too long before he clears his throat and says, “That’s great. Congratulations.” He holds his hand out, and I shake it. “Nice to meet ya, man.”

  “Yeah, you too.”

  “Can you scoot over?” Adley whispers to Jack.

  “Uh, sure.” He scoots his seat to the side, allowing Adley to slide an empty chair in next to hers.

  I wait until she’s seated before I sit down. “Aren’t you guys missing one?”

  “Taryn had to get home.” Adley’s hand finds mine under the table. “We ordered a bunch of appetizers. Are you hungry?”

  “Starved. Today was crazy, and I didn’t get a chance to eat lunch.”

  “What do you do?” Emily asks

  “He’s a bull rider,” Adley answers.

  I squeeze her hand and correct her. “Former bull rider. I stopped riding professionally after last season. Now I mostly train other guys.”

  Emily’s eyes widen. “A bull rider, huh? That sounds dangerous.”

  “It can be if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “Do you have leather chaps?” Abby asks, grinning. Everyone stares at her, and she shrugs. “What? It’s a legitimate question. Bull riders are hot. Bull riders in leather chaps? Even hotter.”

  “She’s right,” Adley agrees.

  Phillip, Jack, and Tyler roll their eyes.

  “I knew I liked you.” I hold out a fist, and Abby reaches across the table to bump it.

  “Is it anything like riding that thing?” Emily asks, tossing a thumb over her shoulder at the mechanical bull.

  “That’s Cheryl, and fuck no, it’s totally different. But she’ll give you a good ride,” I say, distinctly remembering last year when I watched the horror on Rhett’s face as his girl, Mo, climbed on Cheryl’s back.

  A voice in the back of my head reminds me that I still need to talk to Rhett, tell him about Adley and me. Fuck, I probably need to talk to all of her brothers. And the sooner the better.

  Rhett has been a rock in my life over the last five or so years. We haven’t talked a whole lot since he moved back to Heaven—he’s been busy with wedding stuff an
d building his house—but that’s no excuse. I can’t keep putting this off.

  “A girl was on there when we first walked in. It looked kind of fun,” Abby says.

  “Get up there,” I coax, but Abby shakes her head, and everyone at the table laughs.

  “You don’t know Abby very well,” Phillip says. “She’s a bit…”

  “Careful,” Tyler says.

  Phillip nods. “I was going to say safe, but careful works.”

  “There is nothing wrong with being safe,” I tell Abby, who is frowning. “But if you want to get up there and try it, I can help you.”

  “I wanna try,” Adley blurts, surprising us, and the first thing that pops into my head is what Rhett said to me when Mo mounted Cheryl.

  “You just wait. Your time is coming, and when it does, we’ll get the girl you love up on Cheryl and see how you feel about it.”

  The girl I love.

  Is that what this is? Love?

  My eyes snap to Adley’s.

  After watching my parents rip each other apart, I swore I’d never fall in love. But now that I have some perspective, I don’t think I ever really stood a chance with Adley. She’s too sweet and beautiful and perfect and… I love her.

  16

  Adley

  What the fuck am I doing? I don’t want to ride a mechanical bull. That shit is for people who are brave, and I am not brave. But the look of relief on Abby’s face reminds me why I threw myself into the bull-riding arena.

  “Thank you,” she mouths.

  Abby is sweet and smart and wildly cautious. Taking chances isn’t her thing. When things are out of place or order, she gets anxious and starts counting. That’s when all hell breaks loose. She hasn’t been formally diagnosed, but we all know she suffers from anxiety and most likely OCD.

  “You want to get on Cheryl?”

  I pull my gaze from Abby’s and look at Lincoln. “Yeah, why not?” I say, trying to sound confident. “Will you help me?”

  Lincoln is overprotective and reminds me so much of my brothers. I expect him to say hell no and drag me out of the bar for even thinking about putting myself in danger, but then he shocks the hell out of me when he stands up and offers me a hand.

  “I’ll always help you.”

  His eyes are as intense as his words, and I find myself standing up and slipping my hand in his.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Jack says.

  “He’s right,” Phillip interjects. “What if you get hurt?”

  “I would never let you get hurt,” Lincoln says, softly. “But life is too damn short to let fear hold you back. If you want to get up there and ride Cheryl, then get up there and ride Cheryl.”

  At first, I didn’t really want to ride Cheryl. I was just trying to draw the attention away from Abby. But now I want to show Lincoln that I can be fearless and brave like he is.

  “You said Mo did this, right?”

  Lincoln chuckles. “Yup.”

  I square my shoulders. “Well, if Mo can do it, I can do it.”

  With my hand in his, Lincoln guides me to a small table behind a control panel.

  “Hey, Jimmy,” he says.

  “Hey, Linc.” The older man wearing a Broken Boot T-shirt stands up and shakes Lincoln’s hand. “You wanna have a go at Cheryl?”

  “Not me.” Lincoln looks down at me, and Jimmy’s eyes follow.

  His gaze narrows, and he tilts his head a fraction. “I know you. You’re Rhett’s sister.”

  “Adley,” I say, shaking the guy’s hand.

  I don’t remember meeting him, but I’ve been here so many times over the years with my dad and Rhett, it would be impossible to recall all the names and faces.

  “She yours?” Jimmy asks Lincoln.

  Lincoln wraps an arm around my shoulder, holding me proudly. “She is,” he says, smiling down at me.

  “You okay with her getting on Cheryl?”

  “Fuck no,” Lincoln answers, surprising both of us. “That’s why I’m getting on with her.”

  “You are?” I ask, slightly relieved that I won’t be getting up there alone and making a fool out of myself.

  Jimmy scratches his head and looks at the bull. “It’s not really made for two people.”

  “Since when do you follow the rules?”

  “You’re right.” Jimmy laughs, motioning toward Cheryl. “Have at it.”

  My friends stand off to the side while Jimmy goes over the rules of riding Cheryl. Once he’s done, I climb onto Cheryl’s back, and then Lincoln swings a leg and gets on behind me.

  It’s a tight fit, but we make it work.

  “I’m a little nervous,” I admit.

  “There’s nothing to be scared of,” he says, guiding my right hand to the bar in front of us. “Hold this, tight.”

  His long fingers curl around mine, securing my hand to the bar.

  “Your left hand has to stay up in the air, like this,” he says, lifting my arm up.

  “But what am I supposed to hold on to?”

  “The bar.” He squeezes my right hand. “You hold on right here.”

  “I can only hold on with one hand?”

  “That’s all you need.” He lowers his mouth to my ear. “When you ride me, you don’t hold on to anything.”

  I grin and roll my eyes. “That’s a little different. This is a bull. It could get a little wild, and I could get bucked off.”

  Lincoln leaves my left hand in the air and rests his against my lower belly.

  “Riding a bull is like having sex. It’s all in the hips,” he whispers, tugging me back until my ass is cradled firmly between his legs and his cock is pressed against me. “Find a rhythm and ride. And next time you climb on top of me, I’ll show you just how wild I can be. You’ll wish you had a bar to hold on to.” He nips playfully at my ear, and I tilt my head to the side, exposing my neck.

  “If that’s his form of helping, you were an idiot to turn that man down,” I hear Emily tell Abby.

  “No shit,” she replies. “Are they going to fuck up there or what?”

  Emily sighs. “Looks like it.”

  Lincoln laughs, and I shake my head. “Sorry about them.”

  “Don’t be. I like your friends. Well, except for Jack. I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

  “Jack who?” I look over my shoulder at Lincoln. His eyes are hooded, and he’s got a sexy smirk on his face. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  “I’m not worried. You’re mine, and you know it.”

  I nod.

  “You kids ready?” Jimmy hollers.

  “You ready?” Lincoln asks me.

  “Don’t let me get hurt, okay?”

  “Never. I’ll never let you get hurt.”

  I feel like he’s talking about more than riding Cheryl. I want to ask him what else he means, but when Cheryl whirs to life, I squeal and face forward.

  Lincoln tightens his right hand on mine against the bar, and his left hand is secure against my stomach as Cheryl slowly begins to rock.

  “Shit,” Abby says. “I’m not sure I can watch this. It’s making me nervous.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see her cover her face with her hands.

  “You good?” Lincoln asks. I nod, and he yells to Jimmy. “A little faster.”

  Jimmy kicks it up a notch, and Cheryl’s speed increases.

  Lincoln was right; this is a lot like sex. Lincoln’s hips are moving with mine, and each time we rock, his cock slides along my ass—over and over until all I can concentrate on is how hard he is and what it would feel like if there was nothing between us.

  “Are you always this hard when you get on a bull?” I ask over my shoulder.

  “It’s not the bull; it’s you.” He grinds against me, and I moan, hopeful that Cheryl’s motor keeps people from hearing.

  Lincoln’s fingers splay out along my belly, his pinky and ring finger dipping low. Each time we rock, his grip on me tightens, and his fingers push against my zipper, cau
sing it to rub against my clit.

  I’m trying to pay attention to what I’m doing, but all I can concentrate on is the delicious friction and Lincoln’s hard chest at my back.

  “Faster,” I yell, needing more. My hips are moving in rhythm with Cheryl’s rock, and so are Lincoln’s.

  “Keep rolling your hips,” he demands quietly in my ear. “Each time she moves, rock into my hand and then back against me.” I do as he instructs, and Lincoln rewards me with a kiss to my ear. “Perfect.”

  I can’t concentrate after that because I’m aching, needing, and seconds from exploding in a room full of people.

  “Lincoln,” I call out, wondering if he knows what this is doing to me.

  Or maybe this was his plan all along.

  He gives Jimmy some sort of signal. “Hold on, tight, sweetheart.”

  Cheryl rocks harder and faster, and this time there’s a twist to her back end. We whip to the right and then back to the left. The movement jostles Lincoln’s hand. I tighten my thighs on Cheryl. Within seconds of the new rhythm, I’m close to screaming. I do my best to control my body, but it’s too late. I fall apart in Lincoln’s arms. My gasps and moans blend into the cheers and chants coming from the crowd.

  My hips continue to rock between Lincoln’s arousal and his hand, drawing out my orgasm. Within seconds, I come again, and the pleasure feels so good it hurts. When I can’t take any more, I call out, “Stop. Please, stop.”

  Jimmy flicks the switch, and Cheryl slows to a stop. I’m flushed and breathing heavy, and I can’t believe that just happened.

  I had an orgasm in front of a room full of people—five of whom are close friends—in a bar, no less. Shit. Pushing a hand through my hair, I look around the room to see if anyone seems to have noticed what just happened.

  Lincoln doesn’t immediately release me, and when I wiggle in his arms, he brings his lips to my ear. “Did you just get off?”

  Oh God, this is mortifying. I nod.

  “Son of a bitch,” he murmurs, flinging himself off of Cheryl.

  He gives me a hand to help me down, and when I lift a leg over, he picks me up and swings me into his arms.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, looking at my friends as we stride right past them.

  Abby holds out my purse, and I snag it.

 

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