by Becky McGraw
"Yeah, I was in the tack room and he cornered me after Luke left."
"Holy shit, where is the asshole?" He released her and she saw his hand move to the butt of the mean looking handgun on his belt. His eyes narrowed and his lips pinched into a flat line.
"Unconscious in the tack room. Luke beat the shit out of him," Cassie said and snickered.
Cole's eyebrows raised and then said sarcastically, "Nah, Luke wouldn't do something like that. I'm sure he just used enough force to restrain the ass--suspect. Isn't that right, Luke?"
Luke grumbled then nodded. "Of course. He resisted, so I didn't have a choice. Now lock the asshole up and call Judge."
Cole saluted him and then turned to walk toward the barn and they all followed. Once inside the tack room, Cole stopped and looked back over his shoulder at Luke. "Hog-tied, Luke? Really?"
Laughter rumbled up from his toes and then Cole bent over when it consumed him. "Nice law enforcement maneuver, Sheriff. They teach you that at the academy?" He howled again and before long they were all laughing. Everyone except Luke. His eyes were angry and his fists clenched at his side.
"Cut the shit Cole and get him out of here before I decide to finish the job," he told his deputy gruffly and turned to walk out the door.
Cassie grabbed his arm and stopped him. "What's wrong Luke?"
"Nothing," he said and shook off her hand. "I'm going home."
She followed him almost having to jog to keep up with his fast movement toward his truck. "Wait, Luke..."
He didn't stop, but she finally caught up with him when he opened the door to his truck and climbed inside. She stepped up on the running board to stand between him and the door then leaned inside and got right up in his pinched face. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
She saw a muscle working in his jaw, but he didn't say anything. His knuckles were white where he was gripping the steering wheel, staring out over the top of it. Cassie didn't know what had put a burr under his saddle, but she knew she wasn't letting him leave until she got it out. She leaned close to his ear and whispered. "C'mon, baby, tell mama what's wrong," then moved her hand to rub his thigh. She kissed his cheek then the corner of his mouth, her hand moving a little higher on his thigh.
Moving to his ear, she flicked out her tongue and circled the lobe, then sucked it and released it. She thought she heard him groan, and noticed that his breathing was faster than it had been. A flush stained high up on his chiseled cheekbones.
"You're playing with fire, honey. Move so I can leave."
"What if I don't want to?" She nuzzled his neck and put a butterfly kiss over the pulse pounding there. Her head spun when he jerked her inside of the cab between his muscled chest and the steering wheel right before his mouth slammed down over hers in a kiss that sent her pulse from zero to sixty in 2.6 seconds.
Luke slid his hand under her tank top and rubbed it along her ribcage up to cup her breast. When his thumb found her nipple, desire ripped through her like a summer wildfire and she linked her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, letting out all the pent up frustration that had been building in her since she laid eyes on him again.
Cassie moved her hip to stroke his steel-like erection which was nudging against her, then opened her mouth to tangle her tongue with his. Moving her hand down to the hem of his t-shirt she tugged it out of his jeans, then slid her hand over his hard abs up and up to his pecs. His heart beat like a sledgehammer against his ribs, just like her own. Cassie flicked his nipple with her fingernail and he groaned, then put his hand over hers.
"We need to stop, Cassie," he told her breathing heavily then pulled her all the way inside the cab and sat her on the passenger seat.
Hot and bothered with her brain muddled with passion, Cassie looked over at him dumbfounded. Breathlessly she said, "What the hell?"
"We have an audience."
She looked outside the truck and saw Cole and Bud holding the battered and bruised almost rapist between them, with wide grins on their faces. Cassie dropped her head back against the seat and groaned. "Aw, shit...not good."
Luke looked over at her curiously and said in a slightly hurt tone, "Felt pretty damned good to me."
It was beyond good, Cassie thought. Kissing Luke was spectacular...being with him again would be heavenly. Something she wanted more than her next breath right now. But that was the problem. She shouldn't be feeling what she was feeling with Luke...shouldn't be doing what she was doing.
"I'm engaged Luke and when my daddy finds out about this he's gonna give me hell."
"Why's that?"
She hesitated. How the hell could she tell him her daddy had been trying to hook them up since the day she got here? "Um...you'll just have to trust me on that one."
He looked over at her and his brown eyes were dark and intense, full of passion. "Cassie, there's something going on here between us. The way you ran off left us with some unfinished business. We need to get it out of our system, so we can move on."
The temptation to agree with him was enormous, but she resisted. "Luke, we can't go back...we'd both just wind up hurt again. And James would wind up hurt too."
Luke leaned over and grabbed her shoulders. "Fuck, James. How the hell can you marry him when you want me?"
Cassie felt the sting of tears behind her eyes and took a deep breath then forced sincerity into her voice, "I love him," she lied hoping it would end this discussion.
Luke growled and let go of her shoulders to put his hands back on the steering wheel. Without looking at her he hissed, "Get out, Cassie."
She slid away from him toward her door and opened it, but stopped to look back at him. His jaw was clenched and his lower lip was trembling with the effort.
"Luke, I'm sorry."
"Just get out, Cassie, and think about what I said. If you change your mind let me know, but in the meantime keep your damned hands off of me," he told her his voice deep and raspy.
"Okay," she said sadly then shut the door and stepped away from the truck. Luke turned the key in the ignition violently then hit threw the truck in gear and peeled out of the driveway leaving a dust cloud behind him.
Bud had evidently headed back to the bunkhouse, but Cassie saw Cole stuffing his prisoner inside the SUV. She needed to bawl like a baby, but she wasn't doing it in front of Cole. Cassie lifted her arm and swiped at the tears that had slipped from her eyes, then turned and ran toward the house.
"Cassie Wait!" Cole slammed the back door of the SUV locking his prisoner inside and caught up with her right when she stepped up on the porch. "What happened, honey?" He yanked her back against his chest, but she kept her face down and didn't turn around to face him.
"Let me go, Cole. I need to be alone."
Cole leaned close to ear and whispered as his hands squeezed her shoulders. "He still loves you, you know? If he's acting crazy, that's why."
"He doesn't love me," Cassie heard her voice waver and flinched.
"He does...he always has...since the first moment he met you. I thought he was going to rip my head off when I said I might ask you out." Cole chuckled and put his arms around her waist and led her over to the swing at the end of the porch. He sat down and dragged her down beside him. "It's always been you for him, darlin' and probably always will be judging by the way he's acting since you've been back."
"That's not true, Cole. He might want me, but he doesn't love me. The night I left, he proved it to me."
Cole kicked the swing and started it swaying back and forth then slid his arm around her shoulders. "Why do you think that?"
"It's not important now. It's been ten years, and it's water under the bridge now. I'm engaged and I owe it to my fiancé to nip this in the bud. I'm here to help my daddy, not rekindle old fires with Luke."
Today's exhibition had been all her fault...any flames fanned today were ignited by her. She'd pursued him, kissed him, touched him, because she'd been through so much since setting foot back in Texas, and because he'd been there
to catch her every time she hit a slick spot. Cassie was determined to avoid any more slick spots while she was here, so she wouldn't need saving or helping.
"You owe it to Luke to talk to him, Cassie. You weren't here to see the state he was in after you left. He was a mess...still is. I told him to stay away from you, but he didn't listen."
Cassie's eyes flew to his and she swiped at new unwelcome tears. "Luke had his chance Cole, and he blew it. So, if he's a mess, it's not my fault. He'll have to work it out himself. I'm gonna get my daddy back on his feet then I'm going back to Phoenix."
Cole looked at her intently, then stopped the swing and stood up to face her. "You're making a mistake, sugar. But it's yours to make. If you need to talk, give me a call." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card handing it to her. "My cell's on the back."
She watched Cole until his SUV was reduced to a cloud of dust in the distance, then got up from the swing and went into the house to go find her dad. She needed to talk to him before he got any crazy ideas from what happened between her and Luke just now.
***
It was Friday, Cassie was cleaning out the horse stalls, and Luke hadn't shown back up at the ranch in a week. Not since the scene in his pickup. And Cassie missed him a lot. She'd get over it though, she kept telling herself.
Just like last time ten years ago, each day would get better, and she'd miss him less. The hole in her heart, which felt like a double-barrel shotgun wound right now, would eventually heal to pellet size. How the hell had she let herself care about him again? She didn't know how it happened, but Luke had managed to get a toehold inside her heart again, and she had been teetering on the cliff again, had almost fallen over the edge. The same one that had landed her flat on her face and heartbroken last time.
She needed to be thankful he was staying away, not sad. His absence was making it harder to manage the daily chores on the ranch, but much easier for her to untangle the briar bush of emotions clogging her head and making her forget how much she loved her life in Phoenix...and James. But even though Luke hadn't been around to remind her, when Cassie lay down at night, his parting words tossed around in her head like a broken record. "How can you marry him when you want me?"
With a sigh, she lifted the heavy shovel of manure and tossed it into the wheelbarrow by the door, before going back to repeat the process. When it was full, she pushed it out of the barn and headed toward the pile at the edge of the pasture. She was halfway across the pasture when she saw a familiar silver BMW convertible ease down the rutted driveway toward the house.
Cassie let out a whoop, dropped the wheelbarrow and took off running. She took a shortcut and hopped the fence near the house, running to meet the car as it pulled to a stop. Cassie was sweaty, dirty and probably smelled like horse poop, but she didn't care. James was here and he would make her feel better. Help her remember that she loved him.
Out of habit, her thumb went to stroke the diamond engagement ring on her finger, and encountered nothing but smooth skin and a faint ridge. She sucked in a breath and tucked her hand in her pocket. Because of the attack by the ranch hand, and then their argument in the truck with Luke, she hadn't ever made it back out to the tree or fence to look for her ring again. She swallowed hoping James wouldn't notice it was missing, before she found it.
He opened the door and eased his long lean frame out of the car, then pocketed her keys and stretched. "Hi, sweetheart. Surprise!" he said his eyes moving over her from her dusty boots to her misshapen straw hat. He leaned forward and gingerly kissed her cheek without touching her anywhere else. "Wow, you sure look like a country girl. Gives me all kind of hayloft fantasies." He winked at her then stuffed his hands in the pocket of his sharply-creased khakis.
Okay, she hadn't seen him in almost two weeks, had talked to him maybe two times on the phone, and this was the best greeting he had in him? "I'm a little dirty. Come on in the house, while I shower and change," she walked away from him toward the house.
She was sure he didn't want her to muss up the expensive green polo the same color as his eyes, or his chinos, but still...the man played golf, he'd seen sweat and dirt before, surely.
"I'd like to take you out to dinner tonight. Is there anywhere good around here?" he said and she realized he hadn't moved to follow her.
She looked back over her shoulder and found him bent over dusting his loafers, so she stopped and faced him again. "There's a decent steak house in Bowie, but nothing to write home about, and a Mexican place." When he stood up and pocketed his shoe shammy, she turned and walked with him up to the porch and opened the door for them.
Cool air rushed over her skin as she stepped inside the entry then took a few steps toward the kitchen. "Have you had lunch?"
"Yeah I had a salad when I stopped in Amarillo." James informed her sounding stationary. She turned around to find him eyeballing the furniture and then the antler chandelier in the entry with a curl to his lip. "Wouldn't want to tangle with that thing in the dark." he chuckled and Cassie bristled at his snobbishness.
"That'd be hard to do since it's hanging from the ceiling," she told him with sarcasm lacing her tone.
His smile slipped a notch, and he looked at her curiously. "Everything okay, sweetheart?"
She huffed out a breath and reeled in her irritation. "Everything is fine, James. I'm just tired, and hot. I'll feel better after my shower." She forced herself to smile at him and then grabbed his hand to lead him into the family room where she found her dad sitting in his wheelchair reading a cattleman's magazine.
"Daddy, look who came to see us..."
Her dad looked up, his reading glasses resting on the end of his nose making him look kind of like an owl with his wild gray hair and busy eyebrows. He grunted then said, "Howdy...John is it?" with an obvious lack of enthusiasm.
Cassie wanted to strangle her dad. She knew he remembered James' name. He'd spent a week with them at Christmas, and he wasn't senile. He was just being an ass, because he didn't like him.
James, bless his heart, walked around her and extended his hand speaking loudly as if her dad was hard of hearing, "James Barton, Mr. Bellamy. It's good to see you again. How's the leg?"
"Damned leg is fine, and my name is Carl," he said grouchily.
James eyebrows shot up, and then came back down over narrowed green eyes. "Well, that's good news then, sir. That means Cassie can come home soon."
"She is home, boy," her dad told James and then dropping his eyes back to his magazine he rustled through a few pages, totally ignoring them.
"Did Cassie tell you we're getting married soon?" James asked evidently to irritate her dad further. This wasn't going well at all, and she stepped between them and put her hands on James chest and shook her head.
He let out a deep frustrated sigh, and then turned his back to walk back toward the entry. "I've got a few calls to make, but my cell doesn't have reception. Mind if I use the phone I saw on the way in?"
"That's fine, James. I'm going upstairs to get cleaned up. You're welcome to come up there when you get done," Cassie invited hoping that would keep him away from her daddy. At the foot of the stairs, she told him, "It's the third door from the landing on the right."
"He ain't going in your room, little girl. Ain't proper," Carl grumbled.
Cassie growled her frustration. "Dad, I'm twenty-eight years old, and he's my fiancé. Stop being a stubborn old coot."
Her dad harrumphed, slapped his magazine down on his lap, then unlocked the brake on his wheelchair. He turned the chair away from them and wheeled it toward the room he was using on the ground floor.
Cassie's shoulders slumped. This was not what she needed now. She'd have a private talk with her dad in the morning, and make sure he didn't give James a hard time again. If he did, she'd just pack up her suitcase and head out, and she was going to tell him so. She looked over at James just standing at the doorway to the alcove frowning, his shoulders stiff.