Her head turned and her gaze met mine. Slowly smiling, I leaned in closer. “Tell me you don’t want my mouth on yours.”
Quickly replying with, “I don’t,” her brows shot up in defiance.
Moving in closer, my gaze fell to her lips. When her tongue glided quickly over them, I felt my cock jump. “What about my mouth buried between your legs.”
Her mouth parted and I could see her pulse racing on the side of her neck.
“You talking dirty to me does nothing to me. You’re wasting your time,” she whispered in a faint voice.
Leaning in more, I ran my mouth lightly along her jaw and whispered into her ear, “What a shame. I really enjoy telling you how much you turn me on. And how amazing it would feel with your pussy squeezing my cock as you call out my name.”
Her hands landed on my chest. The feel of her touch sent a wave of heat through my body. With a hard push, she glared at me as I took a few steps back.
“And how many girls have you said that to, Romeo?”
Laughing, I had to hand it to her. She was hard to crack. I grabbed her hand and hauled her to her room. Opening the door, I walked in. “My room is out your door and to the right. Change into some jeans and your boots and meet us back in the kitchen.”
“Don’t boss me around, Brett. I’m not some woman you picked up in a bar and brought home to fuck,” she spat out. I could see the frustration laced in her eyes. She wanted me as much as I wanted her.
My grin faded as I took her in. I’d never want her to think I thought of her that way. My heart dropped and I slowly shook my head as I took a few steps back. “No. You must certainly are not. You’re so much more.”
She froze and gave me a befuddled look.
Spinning around, I headed out of her room. I needed to stop this game I was playing. I wasn’t interested in starting a relationship. And for sure not one with someone who would never be around. I needed to ignore the way Aubrey made me feel.
This was business and nothing more.
Feeling the tightness around my heart grow, I let out a laugh. I was totally fooling myself. If only I didn’t long for something more with Aubrey.
We’d been riding for over an hour, and I’d managed to keep my thoughts occupied on the ranch. Dad filled me in on some things that needed to be done, but he was having Mac, the foreman, take care of it. Mac had worked for my father since high school. We had been good friends and I never really understood why he choose to stay behind and live this life when he could have gone and played college football, and probably pro football.
The guilt of not being here for my father quickly overtook me. “I can do it, Dad. I mean, if I’m going to be here, I might as well work.”
He grinned. “Well, you know I’ll never turn down work. I’m just happy to have you here. It’s rare to have you back here in the spring. What made you come for a visit now anyway?”
Glancing over his shoulder, I saw Aubrey peeking at me.
“I wanted to get the other side of Brett for the article. You know, make him feel more real to the readers.”
Turning away, I focused straight ahead of me.
“So, Joseph, tell me about your ranch,” Aubrey probed.
Oh, my father would love this.
“Well, what do you want to know, pretty lady?”
Aubrey chuckled. “What do you do here? Cattle? Grains? Horses?”
My father launched into the history of how the ranch started with his grandfather, my great-grandfather. It started with horses.
“My granddaddy bred the best roping horses in the country.”
“Can you rope, Brett?” Aubrey asked.
My father answered before I could. “Hell yes, the boy can rope. He was damn good at it too. Has buckles in his room from all the rodeos he won.”
“Ah, learned something new,” Aubrey purred as I shot her a warning look. “What’s wrong, Owens? Don’t want me digging to deep? I’d love to see all of your buckles and trophies.”
My father let out a whistle. “Lordy, there are a lot of them. Birdy had to box some up and put them in the attic.”
Clearing my throat to mask the frustration of my father talking about my past, I brought the conversation full circle. “It’s a cattle ranch mostly, but we produce wheat, oats, milo, and hay grazer.”
Aubrey lifted a brow at me. “Wow that’s kind of cool. What kind of cows?”
“We have about thirty percent, Angus/Hereford and Brangus/Hereford cross and seventy percent Hereford. They are mostly bred with Hereford, Angus, and Charolais bulls.”
The grin that spread across her face before she turned to my mother to speak with her, caused my heart to drop. I seriously doubted she really wanted to know all of this, but I liked it more than I wanted to admit that she was showing an interest. Even if it was only for the damn article.
“So, are you ready for that challenge?” Aubrey asked as she brought her horse up alongside me.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Barrel racing. If I can do it faster and clean, you have to answer any question I ask. Any question. Nothing is off limits.”
I knew what she was getting at. But there was no way in hell she could beat me. Please. The thought alone made me want to laugh. I’d practically been born on a horse.
“Bree, I grew up on a damn ranch. Just because you can ride a horse doesn’t mean you can barrel race.”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t look that hard on TV. Are you afraid to do a sport dominated by women?”
For a quick moment, she had me riled up, but I wasn’t going to let her see it. If this meant she would stop trying to figure out my slip up, I’d do it.
“Fine. We happen to have some set up for a class my mom teaches.”
With a wide grin, she sat up straighter. “Then let’s go for it.”
“Mom, Dad, Aubrey seems to think she can barrel race.”
My mother’s face fell. “Oh, sweetheart, I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Trust me, Birdy. I’ve got this.”
Her confidence was sexy as hell, but if she got hurt, I’d never forgive myself.
Twenty minutes later, Dad had his stopwatch out and timed me as I raced around the barrels. I’d only done this a few times at the request of my mother. Pressing into Whiz, a six-year-old blue roan gelding, as hard as I could, we came tearing back across the line.
I shouted out. “Hell yes!” My parents cheered me on as Aubrey looked up at me and laughed.
“Impressive, cowboy. For a guy.”
With a wink, I replied, “Yeah well, what can I say? I know how to ride.”
Her eyes turned dark. “I bet you do. But so do I,” she purred.
Mac walked up with Spike, my paint horse from high school and one of the best cutting horses we had. He happened to also be the horse my mother gave lessons on.
“Mac, what are you doing with Spike?” I questioned.
He tried not to smile, but failed miserably. “Ms. Cain wanted to see the best horse we had for the job. I had to show her Spike. She asked your daddy if she could ride him.”
My head snapped up as I glared at my father. “Traitor!” I yelled out before looking back at Mac. “Well, he’s my horse. Maybe Ms. Cain should have asked me.”
Focusing back on Aubrey, I stated, “You can be on the best damn horse we have, but unless you know what you’re doing, you won’t come close to my time.”
Without a word, Aubrey climbed on top of Spike. Fuck if she didn’t look damn good on top of him. Lucky horse. I could tell Spike was smitten with her right away, that bastard. Aubrey rode around the arena a few times and kept leaning over and saying something to my horse.
“What are you doing?” I called out.
“Getting to know him and how he feels.”
With a frustrated groan, I replied, “He feels like you shouldn’t be on my damn horse!”
They rode by me and if I hadn’t known better, I would say my own horse just snickered at me.
> “Just fucking ride already, Aubrey.”
“Brett Joseph Owens!” my mother gasped. “Do not talk to a lady that way.”
“Sorry, Mom.” She motioned with a look for me to apologize to Aubrey.
Forcing the words out, I shouted, “Sorry, Aubrey!”
She rode up to me and stopped on a dime. “What was that, Brett? I didn’t seem to hear you.”
Leaning closer, I shot her a look. “Just ride the goddamn horse, Aubrey.”
Her head pulled back in surprise. “Why, Brett. You’re not starting to worry, are you?”
It was in that moment I realized I had been played by her. She knew how to barrel ride. With the way she was moving on my horse, she knew exactly what she was doing.
“You lied,” I gasped with my eyes widened in surprise.
“I withheld a part of the truth. Kind of like what you’ve been doing.”
My hands balled up in fists, I glowered at her. “I haven’t withheld shit from you, and you know it.”
With a wink, she called over her shoulder, “Ready, Joseph?”
My father stood and held up his thumb. “Ready!” Oh, he was enjoying this way too much.
Before I knew it, Aubrey and Spike were racing to the first barrel. They cleared it perfectly. Then she cleared the second, then the third. The way she was racing back, I knew she beat my time.
My parents started jumping and shouting out Aubrey’s time of thirteen-nine.
Stopping in front of me, she looked and winked before slowly walking out of the arena and to the stables.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
Aubrey Cain just changed up how the game was played by taking a play right out of my own fucking book.
SITTING ON THE window seat in the library, I stared out at the blue sky. It reminded me of Brett’s eyes. The same eyes that invaded my dreams over and over last night.
“Am I interrupting?”
His voice sent a shiver down my back.
Facing him, I smiled. “No. I was going to do some work, but this view has captivated me.”
Brett walked up and stood next to me, taking in the scene outside. “I have to hand it to my parents, they picked a good spot to build a house.”
I giggled. “Yes they did. What’s up?”
He handed me his phone and sat next to me. Glancing at it, I saw a text message.
Emily: So you brought the reporter with you? You’re having a child with me and you’re sleeping with another woman? What would ESPN think about this?
My head snapped up. “Is she insane? Does she think she owns you? And is that a threat?”
Scrubbing his hands over his face, he shook his head. “She seems to like the threats lately. Pat hasn’t found anything else about her transcripts, but he did find out from the professor she has only been to a few classes.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You do realize she probably isn’t even a student at the university. This is all a game.”
“Pat agrees. And now she has dragged you into it. I’m not even sure how she found out about you. All I know is, until I can prove her to be a liar, I need to keep her happy or she’ll go running her mouth.”
Birdy walked into the library. “Who do you need to keep happy? Is there a problem?”
Brett jumped up. “It’s nothing, Mom.”
“That didn’t just sound like nothing. Brett, is there something you’re not telling us?”
My stomach felt sick for Brett and I knew this was tearing him apart.
“It’s nothing to worry yourself with, Birdy. Just a mix up that’s all.”
Brett turned to me, a look of anger on his face. “I’ve got this, Aubrey. I don’t need you coming to my defense.”
It felt as if he had slapped me in the face. He wasn’t the only one, now, who risked losing something. Standing, I started to head out of the room when he took me by the arm.
“Wait. Please don’t leave.” Looking over to his mother, he asked, “Mom, can I have a few minutes with Aubrey? Then I need to talk to you and Dad, alone.”
Birdy slowly nodded. Confusion moved over her face as she looked between the two of us. “We’ll be in your father’s office. You can speak with us in there.”
He nodded and slowly let out a frustrated sigh. Brett’s gaze met mine. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. The idea of telling my parents about Emily is nerve racking.”
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s none of my business.”
“I’d never purposely hurt you, I hope you know that.”
I couldn’t help the small gasp of air I inhaled quickly. His voice was filled with so much compassion it made my knees weak. He truly cared about my feelings and that was not something I was used to. Lifting his hand to my face, I leaned into it. Brett looked at me in a way I’d never had a man look at me before. My heart raced in my chest. Why, of all times, does the man of my dreams have to turn out to be Brett? Fate was cruel.
“Bree,” he whispered. The sound of his voice covered my body like silk. How could he make me melt with a simple touch and one whispered word?
His eyes fell to my lips and I prayed like hell he would kiss me. It was so wrong, wanting him the way I did. I couldn’t help myself when it came to Brett. Would it really be so bad if we had a relationship? Other ESPN reporters dated coaches, players, managers. It happened all the time.
Gently pressing his lips to mine, I wrapped my arms around his neck. We quickly got lost in the kiss. Each kiss from Brett had been powerful and full of passion. This one was so completely different. It was slow, and what flowed between our two bodies was amazing. Whatever this feeling was, I knew it was going to change everything from this point on.
Brett gently placed his hands on my hips and pulled my body flush against his. I could feel his hard-on pressed against my body as my pulse raced even faster. There was nothing rushed or frantic about this exchange between us. It was gentle, beautiful, heart stopping.
When he broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against mine. “Why didn’t we meet sooner, Bree?”
I was so taken aback by his comment, all I could do was close my eyes and whisper the only word my lips would produce. “Brett.”
He quickly dropped his hands and stepped away from me. His stare met mine and I saw nothing but confusion and fear. I’d never imagined in my life I’d see that from Brett Owens.
Walking past me, he left the library without saying another word.
Two days had passed since the kiss. Each night I laid in bed and thought about it and his whispered question to me. It haunted my thoughts.
Was Brett developing feelings for me? Was that why the last two days he had done everything he could to stay away from me?
I went over and over in my head if a relationship between us could work. Michelle made it work, but her boyfriend was a doctor who never traveled. Half the year Brett and I would be in different places. He lived in Texas. I lived in Connecticut.
Sighing, I dropped my head back against the chair. Then there was the question of could Brett even be in a committed relationship. Talking to my sister, Christine, last night brought out a whole new problem for me.
Kids.
When she told me she was pregnant with her second baby, I was so thrilled for her, yet sadness crept over me like a thief in the night.
My email dinged on my computer. Opening it up, I immediately saw his name.
Ryan Dryer.
Ugh.
Clicking on the message, it opened and I began reading.
My Dearest Aubrey,
I hope this email finds you well. It’s been a few days since we’ve talked and I’d like to extend an invitation to lunch tomorrow. I know an amazing Thai restaurant near the capitol. I’ll have my car pick you up at eleven.
My best,
Ryan
Seriously? He’s going to assume I’m going to lunch with him? The more I interacted with this guy, the less I liked him.
Hitting reply, I typed out my reply as I mumbled, “I
don’t even like Thai food!”
“Who wants Thai food?”
My eyes lifted over my lap top and I couldn’t help the smile that spread over my face. The sight of Brett in jeans, boots, and a cowboy hat did funny things to me.
“No one important.”
He grinned and removed his hat, causing me to attempt to find the motion to breathe. His sweat damped hair looked sexy as hell. I imagined him over me, riding me fast and hard, his cock moving in and out of my body bringing me to one orgasm after another. Our bodies covered in a sheen of sweat.
“Bree? Are you okay? Your face is turning red.”
My hands slapped against my warmed cheeks. Where in the hell did that come from?
“I’m ah … totally fine. Got a lot done today.”
He gave me a quick head pop. “That’s good.”
Forcing myself to act normally, I questioned him. “Where have you been, stranger?” My voice cracked and I tried like hell to push my naughty thoughts away.
The way his eyes lit up told me how much Brett had missed his family home. “Getting back to doing what I love. Helping my father run the ranch.”
I loved how relaxed he had been since coming here. Brett was a whole different person. Anyone could see how much he loved this place. That was another question I had for him. What made him leave?
Wiggling his eyebrows, he asked, “Wanna go somewhere with me?”
The grin that moved across his face had me feeling giddy inside.
Good lord, girl. You’re not in high school.
At some point, I was going to have to be honest with myself and Brett. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hide the way I felt about him any longer.
I glanced at the computer screen. I had started writing the article and had been on a roll, but my aching neck muscles were telling me it was time to take a break.
“Where we going?”
“Town.”
Chewing on my lip, I turned back to my laptop, hit save, and shut it. “I’d love to go. I want to see where you grew up.”
The Playbook Page 13