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Cowboys & Horses

Page 6

by C. J. Laurence


  As I reached the front door, I realised I did want him to check me out, but I didn’t know why. Was it because I liked him? Or was it because I needed reassurance that I was still attractive after Ben’s betrayal?

  “I’ll get that,” he said, as I wrapped my hand around the door handle.

  He appeared from behind me with a charming smile and a soft edge lining his eyes. Within inches of me, looking up at me from beneath his sooty lashes as he leaned towards the door, I answered my question. Sun-kissed skin, a working man’s body with the promise of an incredible physique beneath those cowboy clothes, and dark eyes to sweep you into promises of a good time—any woman who didn’t find him attractive couldn’t be straight. Even if I was a lesbian I think he’d turn me.

  A deep craving to touch him had a grip of me. I just wanted to lay a finger on him, stroke his skin to see if it was as silky smooth as it looked. In nothing short of a trance, I lifted a hand. He flickered his gaze towards my hand, and then back to me. He didn’t move, nor speak. Was this my permission to go ahead?

  My breath caught in my throat, my heart rate trebled. I’d never touched anyone but Ben. And we weren’t officially over. What was I doing? If I did this, I’d only be as bad as him.

  That was enough to break my fascination.

  I yanked my hand back and itched my head. I shifted my eyes to the floor, silently praying my cheeks wouldn’t heat up.

  “Ladies first,” he said, opening the door. “Get yourself mounted up, and I’ll be out in a minute.”

  I scuttled outside, letting out a deep breath as I all but ran towards Cody. What the hell was happening to me out here?

  Chapter Twelve

  Needless to say, after my ‘moment’, the ride back was not so full of flowing conversation. Most of it was spent in silence, stealing looks at one another when we thought it was safe. I chewed my lip most of the way back, anxious thoughts taking over me.

  When we arrived back at the ranch, I dismounted outside the barn, fiddling with the reins as Brady jumped down from his mare.

  “I’ll take him if you like,” he said, holding his hand out for the reins

  I looked up, slightly taken aback. Why wasn’t he allowing me to untack him like before? Before I could even formulate words in my mind, his expression changed. His impassive look turned into a deep frown, concern trickling through his eyes.

  He covered the few metre distance between us in a handful of long strides. Stopping as we met toe to toe, he raised a hand. I held my breath, watching his hand like a mouse observes a cat from the shadows. He settled his thumb on my bottom lip and brushed across it with a gentle sweep.

  It was so sudden and unexpected, my sharp intake of breath as I gasped was loud enough for him to hear. The actual touch itself was what whipped the air from my lungs. So feather light, yet heavy with tenderness and care.

  “You’re bleeding,” he said.

  He finally lifted his eyes to meet mine. When our gazes locked, that was me done. Still stroking across my damaged skin with his thumb, I melted away into oblivion.

  He lowered his voice to a spine-tingling whisper. “Why is your lip bleeding?”

  Fizzy bubbles of heat filled me from head to toe. “I think I chewed on it too much.”

  “Don’t chew it, Sophie. I lo—”

  “Brady, you’re back!”

  John’s booming voice from the back of the barn sliced through our moment like a laser beam cutting through ice. All the emotion thawed out in an instant, putting distance between us once more.

  He stepped back from me, turning to greet John’s beaming smile as he strode towards us.

  “Sophie,” John said. “Did you get yourself sorted with some clothes?”

  I nodded. “I did, thank you.”

  “Excellent stuff. Well, you’ve just missed lunch but there are some leftovers. Go and help yourself whilst Brady and I take care of the horses.”

  I smiled and headed towards the house, not daring to spare a final glance at Brady for fear of spontaneously combusting on the spot. I needed to sort my head out—and quick.

  THE BARN DANCE WAS scheduled to start at six that evening. I’d already been told by John that he would pick me up at five-thirty sharp from my cabin, along with some of the other guests.

  I took my time getting ready, taking extra care to add a few more curls to my hair and apply natural looking make-up. By the time I settled the black Stetson on my head, I was delighted with my look.

  Hearing tyres crunching on gravel, I looked out of the window to see John pulling up. Fighting back a squeal of excitement, I rushed outside and jumped in the front passenger seat. Needless to say, I was the first guest to reach the truck.

  “Hi, Sophie,” John said, smiling. “You look great. Good job.”

  I blushed and gave my thanks as I fastened my seatbelt.

  “I’m glad we have a few minutes alone,” he said. He coughed and wiped his hands on his jeans. “I’m not one to have talks of any sort, but I do feel this one may well be needed.”

  My beaming grin faded away like the hope of sunshine in a storm. “Ok. May I ask what it’s about?”

  He smiled, but it was more a sympathy smile than a gesture of warmth or happiness. “Brady.” He paused and licked his lips. “I don’t take kindly to my staff fraternising with any guests. They all know the rules, and they all stick by them. However, where it concerns you, it would seem that Brady has taken rather a liking to you.”

  I held my breath. My heart was beating at an insane speed. Where was this going?

  “I know what you’ve been through, and I appreciate it’s a tough time. All I’m asking is that you don’t involve Brady in all of your problems. He’s a good man, Sophie.”

  Heat tore through me in nothing but sheer embarrassment. I hadn’t meant to come across like that at all.

  I nodded. “I...I didn’t mean to come across as including him in my problems. I’m sorry. I...do you want me to leave?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not asking anything of the sort. I guess what I’m trying to say in a roundabout way is if you’re as sweet on him as he is you, I will make an exception to my rules—this once, and this once only.”

  What was I supposed to say? Thank you? Why make us an exception? Who was to say it was going to go anywhere anyway?

  “Before you start protesting,” he said, laughing. “I’m not blind. I’m twice your age remember—I’ve been there, and brought back a dozen t-shirts. I spoke to Brady earlier too. He wouldn’t act on anything without my blessing. He has far too much respect.”

  Act on anything? Brady wanted to act on something? With me? Hope and excitement spread through me like wildfire. What did this mean exactly? If ‘relations’ between guests and staff were forbidden, why was John making me an exception? What exactly had Brady said to him?

  Before I could even think of a response, the rear doors of the truck opened as a handful of other guests climbed in. I smiled at John, who then patted my arm in return. Nothing about his demeanour or tone of voice had inclined towards any sort of warning—more of a ‘permission given’ kind of feeling.

  Twenty minutes later, we pulled up at the neighbouring ‘Morgan Mustang Ranch’. The scene before me was just incredible—it was like something from a movie. A bright red barn with white beams and doors sat in front of us. Dozens of straw bales were scattered about outside over a vast area. A group of twenty or so horses stood in the nearby corral, dozing off in the evening heat with their saddles still on their backs.

  We jumped out of the truck and followed John’s lead inside. The delicious aroma of barbequed meat wafted through the air, making my stomach growl. Stepping inside the airy barn was another treat. Fairy lights were strung all the way around the roof, yet more straw bales lined the edge of the dancefloor, and old wooden tables with rickety chairs provided the perfect aged seating.

  As the country music band added to the setting perfectly, we headed to the bar. Whilst I wasn’t really
a ‘pint of beer’ type of woman, I felt the need to attempt to blend into the scenery, so I indulged myself in a bottle of Budweiser.

  I leaned back against the solid wooden bar and watched the crowd of people on the dancefloor jigging away to the upbeat rhythm of the music. Chatter and laughter filled the air, and despite the fact I was on my own, I was content. As I realised this, it dawned on me that I’d never been in a position to be confident on my own—I’d always had Ben with me whenever outside of work or the house.

  Sipping away at my bottle of beer, I felt an overwhelming sense of empowerment creeping through me. From my mid-teens to my mid-twenties, Ben had been my crutch, and my guide, for everything. Now though, I felt accomplished at managing to do such a trivial thing as stand on my own in a public place.

  I lost myself in thought, absent mindedly staring into space as I allowed myself to think over the situation back at home. Even though I’d only been out here a few days, I already felt like a storm cloud had been lifted from my mind. Everything was just simple, and easy. There were no complications, no stresses and strains of day to day life, or working all the hours possible to fill the hole my horses had once occupied.

  If I stripped away that side of things, I could taste the bitterness of Ben’s disloyalty. We never spent any time together, or did anything together. Our conversations were brief, whether that be through tiredness or laziness. We had essentially become two people sharing the same house, working to pay bills to continue living there. Was that really a relationship? Or was that just the ‘norm’ these days?

  I sighed as I had to swallow the bitter pill that just maybe, I couldn’t lay all the blame on Ben. Perhaps he’d been just as desperate as me to feel wanted, loved, to continue bonding with someone as you go out and do things together. But then, why didn’t we discuss it? Had we grown that far apart from one another?

  “I’m sure if you frown any harder, you’ll turn that beer.”

  I snapped out of my ponderings to see Brady stood at my side, grinning. My heart skipped a beat. He looked damn gorgeous. His cream Stetson complemented his bronzed skin along with his pale blue checked shirt, and his dark jeans hugged him in all the right places.

  “Sorry,” I said, my cheeks flushing with heat. “In my own little world.”

  His amused features eased into something a little sincerer. “You really do look the part,” he said. “With or without the beer.”

  I giggled. “It’s only thanks to you. I really do appreciate it.”

  “How are you liking your beer?”

  “It’s actually quite nice.”

  He chuckled, and turned his attention to the young bar maid. Her cheeks grew pinker with every passing second as he ordered his own drink. I sympathised with her—I knew all too well the effect he had on women.

  Two men approached Brady, pulling him into ‘man-hugs’ and grilling him about his life. The gleam in his eyes as he spoke about his life was unmissable—he belonged out here. From the parts of conversation I’d picked up, it sounded like they were friends who’d been out on the rodeo circuit for months and were now back home.

  My rumbling tummy reminded me again that it needed filling, especially now I was drinking. The smell of fried onions and flame grilled burgers enticed me away from my cowboy, luring me outside.

  I stepped out into the warm night air, and took a deep breath. Something about this whole scenario tonight was so invigorating, I didn’t want it to end. As if a toddler being tempted by The Child Catcher, I followed the trail of smoke filtering through the air towards my treat.

  Sat around the back of the barn was a fantastic display of food. On a patio area sat a hog roast, the huge carcass slowly spinning around over the top of an open fire. Next to it was a huge barbeque with easily thirty or more pieces of meat cooking away on top. Groups of people milled around, eating in between talking and laughing.

  I sorted two burgers out for myself, added more onions than the bread rolls could take, and drowned them in ketchup. Nobody paid any attention to me which was nice—I didn’t really feel like making small talk with strangers.

  Slipping back around to the front of the barn, I sat on the straw bale closest to the corral, gazing at the horses patiently awaiting to be a taxi service home. A little shot of jealousy stabbed through me as I wished we’d ridden here. Memories of my own horses sprang to mind, leaving me thinking about where they were now, and what they might be doing.

  Munching my way through my food with my back to the barn, I almost jumped out of my skin when a deep voice from next to me said,

  “Hello there.”

  A dollop of tomato sauce fell from my burger, narrowly missing my shirt, and landed on the edge of the plate. I turned around to see a chubby, middle aged man sat next to me, beads of sweat dripping all over his face.

  “You new around here?” he asked, licking his lips.

  A chill ran down my spine. The instant feeling I got from this guy was not a welcome one. He was sitting far too close for my liking, and the way he seemed to be leering at me made me feel like a piece of meat on display.

  I shuffled backwards and faked a smile. “I’m on holiday.”

  His green eyes glittered like a panther spotting its next meal. “How’re you finding life out in the wild west?”

  “Good,” I said, gulping down my mouthful of food.

  He flickered his attention across to the burger in my hand, and then looked back at me. He had me questioning for a moment whether he was ogling me or my food.

  “Nice to a see a woman who isn’t afraid to eat. Especially one with such a lovely trim figure like yourself.”

  I smiled and put my delicious food back on my plate. This guy made me want to be sick. In that one single second, I suddenly understood why I never went anywhere without Ben.

  “You out here alone?” he asked, inching closer.

  “No,” I replied, my voice coming out more of a squeak than I intended.

  “Well, I know for a fact if I was lucky enough to have you on my arm, I’d never let you out of my sight.”

  I shivered and sidled further back from him. However, what I didn’t realise was that I was already at the edge of the bale. I fell off the end, hitting the hard ground with a solid thump. Pain drove tingles all the way up my back, along with grabbing the air from my lungs with the unexpected drop.

  “Which is exactly why she’s never out of my sight.”

  I turned around to see Brady stood behind the strange man. His arms were folded across his chest, and his handsome face was creased into a serious frown. The piercing glare shooting from his dark eyes was menacing enough to curdle milk.

  “Might’a known you’d have something to do with her, Lancaster. Can’t you let anyone else ‘round here have a look in on the ladies?”

  If I felt sick before, that was nothing compared to now. What did that mean? Was he some sort of serial womaniser?

  “Shut up, Randy. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Pick your jaw up, along with your slobber, and disappear.”

  Randy narrowed his eyes at Brady, but nevertheless, he scurried out of there as quick as his stubby little legs could carry him.

  I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for Brady’s interruption, but also now wary of his history with the female species. I glanced down to avoid eye contact with him, and to my horror, saw ketchup and grease stains all over his sister’s shirt.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I gasped and scrabbled to my feet, wiping the red sauce off with my fingers.

  “Oh my God,” I said, beginning to tremble. “I’m so sorry.”

  I looked around me for something to dab at the shirt, and something to wipe my fingers with. Settling on the straw for my hands, I couldn’t help the panic starting to take over me as the reality of this expensive material now being ruined started to sink in.

  “Sophie,” he said. “It’s fine. Stop panicking.”

  I glanced up at him, and then back at the shirt, and then back at h
im. “Have you not seen this? Do you know how hard grease is to get out of clothes?”

  A soft chuckle sounded through the air as he stepped towards me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and locked our eye contact.

  “I don’t care,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s only a shirt.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. It’s a thing, Sophie, a material object. It’s never as important as a person.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes. What was I supposed to say to that?

  “Here,” he said, grasping my hand. “Let’s get you sorted out.”

  My whole body was on fire from having his hand wrapped around mine. As much as I probably didn’t want to admit it, this guy affected me in ways I’d never yet experienced. Walking through the throng of people back to his truck, it was hard to ignore the admiring glances he received from every woman we walked past. Just the thought of him with one of them had the green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head inside me. For just a minute, I allowed myself the fantasy of pretending we were a couple and he was taking me home for a night of untold passion.

  We reached his truck, which unfortunately meant he broke our skin tingling connection. Rifling through the back seats in an old leather duffel bag, he pulled out a lemon coloured shirt and handed it to me.

  “Hop in the back and swap them over.”

  My thoughts must have crossed over my face, as he started chuckling at me.

  “Don’t worry—the windows are tinted and I won’t peek.”

  I blushed and climbed in the back with his clean shirt. As I peeled his sister’s shirt from my body, I found myself staring at his shadowed form outside the window. He was leaning back against the door, watching the area around us. I bit my lip, lost in the notion that here I was, topless, save for my lacy bra, and there he was—inches away from me. We were only separated by a piece of glass...

  Shaking my head as if bringing myself back to reality, I pulled his clean shirt on, and opened the door. It was huge and hung off me as if I was a coat hanger—it absolutely drowned me.

 

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