Wannabe in Wyoming (Antelope Rock Book 1)

by J. B. Havens

  Willow’s climax hit her out of nowhere, bowing her back with the force of it. Digging her fingers into his shoulders, she cried out, jerking with the shredding force of her release. Nathan plunged into her once, twice more and held himself deep inside her as he followed her into a sea of sheer bliss. His head fell against her shoulder as the warmth of his release bathed her insides. That was a first for her, and she treasured the feelings, knowing he was closer to her than anyone else had ever been.

  The waves of her orgasm crashed over her and seemed to go on forever before releasing her from the turbulent riptide. Panting and sweating, Willow lay beneath Nathan and tried to catch her breath. “I’m . . . pretty sure . . . you killed some of my brain cells.”

  “Well, the feeling . . . is mutual.” They stayed joined together until their lungs replenished their loss of oxygen. Gently pulling out of her, making them both wince at the oversensitivity, Nathan flopped onto his back beside her and gathered her close. “I’ll get a cloth to clean us up in a second, as soon as I’m sure my legs will hold me.”

  “No rush. I get it. I sooo get it.” In fact, her legs gave a violent twitch, and she giggled in pure delight. “See? Aftershocks, because you rocked my world.”

  Lifting her chin, she met his eyes, and they both dissolved into laughter until their sides hurt.

  “Baby, can I just say . . .” Nathan laced his fingers through hers and brought her hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. “You amaze me, and not just because making love to you blows my damn mind.”

  “Blows other things too.” She grinned, pinching his side with her free hand.

  “Ouch!” Swatting her away playfully. “Minx! Anyway,” he continued. “I can’t remember ever laughing after sex before. You’re . . .” Rolling to his side so he was facing her, he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. It was a move he’d done often over the past few days, and it never failed to make her insides melt a little. “You’re everything. I don’t want to ever let you go.”

  “So don’t.” Leaning forward, she kissed him, sweeping her tongue deep into his mouth. She was desperate for him again already. Rolling him over, she straddled his hips and showed him exactly how well she’d learned to ride.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Thursday morning, they worked side-by-side, repairing fence around the pasture. It was hard, monotonous work—pulling the old wire off, replacing the broken and rotted posts, then stringing new wire, all while trying not to cut themselves to ribbons. Heavy work gloves protected their hands but did nothing for their exposed forearms. Willow only had a few more weeks left of warmer weather to get things done outside, and Nathan had wanted to help her as much he could. She was grateful but still felt bad he was working during his time off.

  “I bet this isn’t the way you thought you’d spend your leave. Fixing a stupid fence,” Willow grumbled, angry at her father for letting the ranch settle into such a state of disrepair.

  “No, but I will say it’s still a hell of a lot better than being in Iraq. No burn pits, no RPGs or rockets going off, and no gunfire. I’ll take fixing fences all day over that. Plus, you’re here.” Winking at her, he pulled the wire taut, holding it fast against the new post while Willow nailed it into place.

  “I don’t like to think about it. You being in danger like that, I mean.”

  “Then don’t, it’s over. I don’t have to go back. Just a few more months, and I’ll be out of the Army for good and free to go wherever I want.”

  She bit her tongue, knowing it was way too soon for her to ask him to move there to be with her. He’d probably think she was either desperate or insane if she suggested it now. Determined to change the subject, she said, “I was thinking, do you want to go out tonight? After we finish the fencing, I know I’m going to be too tired to cook. How do burgers and beer sound?”

  “Burgers and beer sound perfect.” Smiling at her, he moved onto the next post. Pulling the leaning and rotting wood from the ground, he tossed it into the back of her old truck before installing a new one. They worked in sync for several more hours, replacing the damaged fence line around what would be the alpaca pasture. Willow hadn’t been able to stop imagining them working side by side like that for the rest of their lives, raising alpacas and, maybe someday, a few kids. She could even envision what they would look like—a little boy, with Nathan’s blue eyes and dark hair, and a little girl, in brown pigtails with hot pink on the tips.

  She jerked back on the reins of her imagination. Slow your roll, psycho. They were so not at that point yet. They were, technically, only a few days into a relationship—thinking about kids now made her into that crazy lady that talks about the wedding on the first date.

  That evening, after showering together, which led to a very satisfying orgasm for them both, Willow finished getting dressed. She slipped her black, Johnny Cash t-shirt over her head, pairing it with faded blue jeans and her favorite bright pink Chuck Taylors. She might be living in Wyoming now, and even own two pairs of cowboy boots, but that didn’t mean she had to give up her favorite things from her life in Philly. A spritz of perfume and she was ready to go.

  Joining Nathan in the living room, she found him dressed similarly in jeans and a dark red t-shirt. The color looked amazing with his dark hair and tanned skin tone. Heavy black boots completed his outfit.

  “I don’t know, we might need to stay home,” she said, eyeing him from head to toe.

  Concern immediately darkened his features. “Oh? Why? You okay?”

  “Oh, I’m great. But when the women in town catch sight of you, I’m sure I’m going to have to let loose my Philly fighting skills. Or bring my gun . . .”

  Laughing, he gathered her close. “Don’t worry, Wannabe, you’re the only woman I see. The only one I want to see.” After kissing her soundly, he let her go and grabbed his wallet and the truck keys. “Don’t even bother trying to bring any money. ID only. I’m paying. And driving.”

  Rolling her eyes but deciding not to argue, Willow pulled her father’s Flyers ball cap down on her head, slipped her ID into her back pocket, and led the way to her truck. She’d called Jeremiah earlier to see if he wanted to join them, but he’d said he was beat and would catch up with them tomorrow.

  Arriving at the Spur & Bull, Nathan parked her truck in the last available spot. Several people were milling about, talking and smoking, while Lynyrd Skynyrd flowed from the open front door of the bar. “Why is it so busy? Holy shit, it’s a Thursday. Don’t people have work in the morning?”

  “Tonight’s ten-cent wings and free pool.” Willow pointed to a poster in the window by the door. “Every weeknight, it’s something different. I’ve been here maybe three or four times. The food is great. They have a deejay and live bands on the weekends a lot too. Though I avoid the line dancing—that is so not my thing. I’ve got two left feet.”

  “That makes two of us, but the rest I can go for. Stay right there a sec, Wannabe.” She narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t move. It took her a moment to realize why he’d issued the order. After climbing from the truck and rounding the hood, he opened her door, took her hand, and helped her down before leading her inside. No doubt he was staking his claim publicly from the start. She smiled at the thought. She could really get into possessive Nathan, as much as she liked bossy-in-the-bedroom Nathan. With any other guy, those traits would probably have been turn-offs.

  Inside, where the music was even louder, they were assaulted by the smell of beer and fries and the distinctive clack of pool balls breaking. The rumble of conversation rose and fell all around them. The place was packed with men in cowboy hats and women in rhinestone embellished jeans.

  “What, no mechanical bull?” Nathan joked, towing her around the long U-shaped bar to the far side where they, surprisingly, found two stools opening up. They would be sitting with their backs to the dance floor and the two pool tables, which Willow didn’t prefer, but choices were limited. Even the scattered tables were filled.

  “No
pe. Sorry to disappoint. I realize the name might be a little misleading.” Pointing around the bar, she continued, “But the décor speaks for itself.” Horns of all shapes and sizes lined the walls. Longhorns, ram horns, deer antlers, and everything in between. Many of them had pairs of spurs dangling from them. From rusty and old to brand new and shiny, the décor was eclectic and original. One whole wall, behind the pool tables, was filled with photos of varying sizes of past and present customers. Some were of people celebrating different milestones, like birthdays, anniversaries, and at least one shotgun wedding, while others were of friends just having a good time on a night out on the small town. Several were taken at rodeos, with chap wearing cowboys and rodeo queens holding up shiny buckles.

  When Nathan and Willow took their seats, Maddie Carmichael immediately came over and leaned across the bar to hug her. “Willow! It’s so good to see you, honey. And who is this handsome devil?” Maddie winked at Nathan, flipping her waist-length dirty-blonde hair back off her face. “Is this the spicy piece of man meat you told us about at Jenga night?”

  Man meat? Nathan mouthed at her, while her face flamed red with embarrassment. “Maddie, I thought anything said at Jenga nights was sacred and never to be repeated. And yes, this is Nathan Casey, my . . . uh . . . he’s . . . mine.”

  Giggling madly, Maddie reached over the bar and shook Nathan’s hand. “Oh, yes, any fool with eyes can see he’s all yours. Got any friends?” she asked him with a twinkle in her eyes.

  “Actually, yes.” Grinning, Nathan slid his hand onto the top of Willow’s thigh, squeezing and massaging it. “My buddy, Zach Ramsey, would probably get along with you just fine. I’ll have to get him up here sometime. He’s getting out of the Army next summer. ”

  “Zach Ramsey, huh?” Maddie purred, her flirty personality coming to the forefront. She was always a little wilder when she bartended—she said it helped with tips. “I like the sound of that just fine. I’m going to hold you to that introduction. Now, what can I get you two kids tonight?”

  “I’ll have an IPA, and Willow?” Nathan raised his brow at her in question, as he handed over his debit card for their tab.

  “Jack and Coke, please. It feels like a whiskey kinda night.”

  “Coming right up. One beer that tastes like dirty feet and a glass of bad decisions in the making.” Maddie slapped the bar top with her hand and then sashayed over to the other end to draw his beer and mix Willow’s drink.

  “Dirty feet? Bad decisions?” Nathan flexed his fingers where he was still gripping her thigh, and the intimate touch stirred her desire again. “Ramsey would love her—he likes his women sassy. She sure knows how to sell this place, huh?”

  She shivered and shifted in her seat, as memories of the previous night’s sex marathon they’d shared flashed in her mind. “Something like that. Maddie is a riot when she lets loose.”

  “Apparently, so are you. Spicy man meat? Care to explain that, Wannabe?”

  Willow used the distraction of Maddie delivering their drinks and food menus to avoid the question. They quickly decided on their dinners, wings for Nathan and a burger and fries for her.

  “I’m waiting.” Nathan nudged her with his elbow after Maddie left them again to put their orders into the kitchen.

  She shrugged. “What can I say? I was drunk. What was said can’t be held against me.” After swirling the straw around in her drink, she took a long draw on it and swallowed while avoiding his gaze.

  “Nice try, woman.” Leaning closer, he kissed her neck before licking a path to her ear, where he nibbled on her ear lobe and whispered softly, “I think, you were thinking an awful lot about my man meat back when this fire between us was just on paper. I’m thinking . . .” He kissed her jaw, turning her face with his hand, so he could reach her mouth. Speaking against her lips, he continued, “. . . you like me a whole awful lot, Wannabe, and I’m thinking you need another taste of how much I like you in return.”

  “Umm hmm. That sounds good. Yup. Let’s do that,” Willow mumbled before kissing him. She couldn’t get enough of the man, his rough kisses and gentle hands. She’d never wanted someone this desperately before. She was a stranger to this level of need, but she’d decided to embrace it with both hands.

  “Now, Willow, are you going to introduce me to the man before you suck his face off in public? This town does have laws about that, you know.”

  Jerking back, Willow looked over Nathan’s shoulder to see Sheriff Grady Minor grinning at her. “Erm.” She was pretty sure her cheeks were hot enough to fry an egg on. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Um, Nathan, this is Grady Minor, the local sheriff.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Sheriff,” Nathan said as he stood and offered his hand. “Willow told me about the trouble she had, and I’m grateful to you for your help.” After they shook, he added, “Please have a seat. Can I buy you a beer?”

  “I was just doing my duty, as you know all about from personal experience. And I don’t mind if I do. Please, call me Grady—I’ve got the night off.”

  Nathan moved to stand behind Willow, holding his beer in one hand and keeping his other wrapped possessively around her shoulders. “Duty or not, I still appreciate it. Though the way Willow here told the story, she had it well in hand.”

  “Very true.” Chuckling, Grady accepted his beer from Maddie, who’d brought it over without being asked.

  “Put that on my tab, please,” Nathan told her before turning his attention back to the sheriff. “I still feel better knowing you’re around to look out for her when I can’t be here. That ex of hers has a reckoning coming if he shows his face again.”

  “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Annie Oakley over here, make sure it’s justified, but I’d prefer if you didn’t kill him. The paperwork for that is a bitch.” He gave Willow a wink. “Care for a shot, girl? I remember you seemed to like them well enough last time.”

  Groaning, she covered her face with her hands and replied through her fingers, “No. Never again will I do shots with you, or Maddie or Jeremiah for that matter. It took me two days to recover from the last time.”

  “Willow! What else aren’t you telling me?!” Nathan sounded appalled, but the grin on his face and amusement in his eyes belied his tone. “You got drunk with the sheriff?”

  “Ugh, yeah. And Maddie and Jeremiah and a bunch of other people. After I shot at . . . I mean, near,” she emphasized, looking pointedly at the lawman, “my ex, Grady told me it’s like a rite of passage for Wyomingites to get drunk after they shoot at . . . near someone. So, I believed him. I mean, why would a sheriff lie, right? Jeremiah drove me here, and I swear, after Grady told everyone the story, half the bar bought me drinks. I had no bar bill that night, but the headache lasted for days. If anyone brings Fireball anywhere near me tonight, I might just puke on you—fair warning.” In reality the evening had turned into an impromptu party, with the local ranchers welcoming her into the fold, so to speak. Some were still salty about her father, but most of them had put that aside. The problems she still encountered around town seemed to be from a group of church ladies and anyone related to the Jenkins family.

  It was a bit weird how she’d been shy, with few friends back in Philly, where her tattoos, pink hair, and nose stud had fit in. But in the Rock, where none of those things were common, she was coming out of her shell and having more fun than she’d had in years, if ever.

  When their food arrived, Grady excused himself to let them eat, inviting Nathan to shoot a game of pool when they finished. Maddie’s shift was about to end too, and she said she’d keep Willow company while Nathan and Grady played.

  Three hours later, Willow stood with her back against the wall, drinking a soda, and laughing at a drunk Nathan. If the man was a charming rogue when sober, he turned into a Casanova after he got a good buzz going. When not taking his turn at pool, he couldn’t keep his hands off her—to the amusement and delight of the entire bar. After his fifth beer, and the two shots they’d done with Gr
ady, she’d switched to straight Coke and managed to sneak the truck keys from his pocket, earning a nod of approval from the lawman.

  “Listen h-here, Sheriff—” Nathan began before he was interrupted by his own loud hiccup. He mumbled an apology and pointed at the older man with his pool cue. “All this country music isn’t good for the soul. I mean, it’s so damn sad. So sad. Who the hell wants to be sad all the fuckin’ time? Not me. Not that I am. Look at that gorgeous woman over there.” Winking at her, he leaned forward and lined up his shot. “She makes me so damn happy, and this sad-ass, cryin’-in-my-beer, my-dog-died-and-took-my-truck, country twang bullshit ruins that for me.” Grady opened his mouth to respond, but Nathan kept going. “Or is it my wife died and took my truck? No, it’s definitely my dog died. Right? Whatever, it doesn’t matter. It all sucks.”

  “Nathan, my friend, you’re not going to change many minds around here. Sure, we listen to rock and such, but country music holds our soul and that won’t be changing anytime soon.” They’d been arguing good-naturedly about the pros and cons of country music for a while now.

  Flapping his hand in dismissal, Nathan finally took his shot. And missed. Again. He really was terrible at pool and got worse as his buzz got better. “What the fuck? I swear this table is crook’d.”

  “Baby, the table is fine. It’s you who’s crooked.” Willow pointed down to Nathan’s feet, noting he couldn’t stand still and was swaying widely from side-to-side.

  “Oh.” He looked down and carefully, and very slowly, moved his feet to shoulder-width apart, bracing himself like he was standing on the rolling deck of a ship instead of a barroom floor. “You’re right, Wannabe. Look at that!” Mumbling to himself, he moved to take another shot, even though it wasn’t his turn, and stumbled again.