by Ali Parker
I sighed and shrugged expansively. “What do you want me to do, Ted? I can’t stop people from talking.”
“No, you can’t,” Ted said, shaking his head. “But you should be careful. Whether she’s pregnant or not, this is Ella that we’re talking about. She’s going to try to cause trouble wherever she can—it’s just her way.”
“Yeah, thanks for that warning,” I said, sarcastically. “Do you mind if I take off now? Didn’t you two have something important that you wanted to get back to?” I wasn’t running away, there was just nothing more that I had to contribute to the conversation.
Ted gave me one last long, measured look. Finally, he nodded. “Go on, get out of here,” he said. “I’ll see you bright and early in the morning. On time for breakfast, please.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there,” I said, already walking away and letting the office door swing shut behind me.
I got in the shower to try to wash away some of my frustration, as well as the grime from the day. Ted was starting to get on my last nerve, even though I tried to remind myself that he was just stressed and that he meant well. He was just doing it for the sake of the ranch.
But all that crap was starting to get to me.
I thought again about Ella, but she was the last person I wanted to be thinking about in the shower. No, instead I let my mind drift to thoughts of Abi. I still didn’t know just what it was about her that had me so interested. But as I mentally stripped her down, I felt my dick twitch with interest.
Slipping my hand over my member, I let the water ease my strokes as my eyes fell shut.
I imagined her in black, lacey panties and a matching bra. Slowly, I would unclasp the bra and pull it away from her tanned skin, revealing her dusky nipples. I would kiss and suck at them, playing the nubs between my fingertips, before slowly tracing my fingers down her body, pausing at her panties. When my fingers dipped between her legs, she would be wet already, her body primed for my thrusting hardness.
Thumbing at the slit on the head of my hard cock, I stifled a groan against the crook of my arm. The water continued to rush over me as I tightened my fist around my length, imagining that I was pumping into Abi’s tight hole.
Soon, I spurted hard against the tiled wall, gasping to catch my breath and shaking the lingering images from my head. I knew that I shouldn’t get too tangled up with her if she didn’t want anything to do with me. But at least I could go to Kinsey’s that night and watch her from afar. Maybe she would dance with me again, if nothing else.
I finished washing up and got dressed, carefully picking out a soft, navy blue shirt and black jeans.
“Where are you off to?” Daddy asked, as I stomped down the stairs.
“Just off to Kinsey’s,” I said.
He frowned, “Haven’t you been over there a lot lately?”
Rolling my eyes, I turned to face him. “Ted said it was fine if I went, as long as I’m on time tomorrow,” I said, keen to head off yet another lecture. But Daddy still looked disapproving. “I’m not going there just to drink,” I invented. “Abi Brock works there, and I just wanted to check on her. Make sure things are okay on their farm, after what happened last night, and see if they need any help cleaning things up.”
If anything, Daddy looked even more disapproving. “I thought Ted made it clear to you that we really need you to step things up around here,” he said.
I knew that in light of the expansion, we were going to really need to pitch in extra around the farm, especially since Daddy had pulled back a little. But all the same, helping at the Brock farm was important to me. They couldn’t do it on their own. I tried to think of a way to explain that to him.
“I’ll make sure I keep up with my chores,” I promised, even though I shouldn’t have to say that. I had never once slipped on that. I didn’t know why Daddy and Ted had such a hard time believing me when I said I would show up. “Just be careful,” Daddy said, giving me another measured look.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” I said shortly, not wanting to argue with him. But I was frustrated; I couldn’t help it. I stalked out the door, slamming it shut behind me.
What the hell was everyone’s deal, anyway? I knew how important it was to keep getting my work done on the farm. It wasn’t like I ever slacked off around there.
How the hell was it fair that David got to run off to play musician in Nashville while the rest of us got more and more work heaped on? If Ted should be mad at anyone, it was David. If Daddy should be lecturing anyone about responsibilities, it was David.
But I guess it was different, because David had gone to Nashville to pursue a career, instead of just a girl.
I rolled my eyes. And if Sarah was David’s fiancée as well as his agent, no one seemed to care. And if Ted and Lauralee wanted to take some time off to go camping together, no one seemed to care either.
It wasn’t fair. All my brothers seemed to get to have relationships, but not me. I was sick of it.
Heading to Kinsey’s, I had one thought in mind—to get roaring drunk. Who cared how late I got back? Fuck it, as long as I was back for breakfast the next morning, I could do whatever I wanted. I was old enough to make my own decisions.
Chapter 12
Abi
I smiled as I took in the number of people in Kinsey’s that night. We weren’t packed in like sardines or anything like that—this was still a small town. But there were a lot of people in there, and they seemed to be enjoying the beer specials and tequila shots to go along with their nachos. I had a feeling Fiesta Night was going to become a staple theme night and just hoped Kinsey wouldn’t overdo it by deciding to hold it one night a week or something like that.
“All right,” Kinsey finally said, “I’ve got the first fifteen participants signed up. Let’s get this wet t-shirt contest rolling.”
I looked around the bar, wondering who had signed up. There were a couple women clustered back in the corner. A couple women with their boyfriends or husbands. But I wasn’t even sure there were fifteen women in the bar, let alone fifteen women who would agree to a bucket of water being poured over their heads.
I frowned at Kinsey. “Can I see the list?”
Kinsey’s eyes twinkled as he handed it over, and I immediately saw why. I choked back a laugh. “Most of these guys are over forty,” I said. “And dudes.”
“Well, I decided to change things up a little,” Kinsey said. “Most of these guys have friends who would love to dump a bucket of water over their heads.”
I couldn’t help laughing. Between drunken dares and lost bets, I was sure that Kinsey had no trouble finding people to sign up for this silly contest. The only thing worrying me now, though, was the temperature outside.
“Don’t you think you should wait until next summer for this?” I asked. “It gets a lot cooler in the evenings now that we’re into fall. We don’t want to give the whole town pneumonia.” I chewed on my lower lip as I worried.
Kinsey rolled his eyes. “These guys are grown-ass adults,” he reminded me. “They know how to take care of themselves. And anyway, they’re all cowboys. They’re tough enough to brave a little chill.”
“Yeah, but if they all get sick, they’re not going to be in here for beer until they’re feeling better,” I pointed out.
“You worry too much,” Kinsey said. “Unless you’re just worried that they’ll all steal the spotlight? I’m still hoping I can get you up there.” He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes.
“Absolutely not,” I said.
Kinsey shrugged. “Worth a try, I guess.” He headed off towards the back room, but I still had a couple of people waiting for drinks at the bar, so I hung back. It was his crazy idea—let him get everything all set up.
I had just finished pouring out six shots of tequila for the girls in the back when Mason walked in the door. He paused there for a moment, surveying the bar, and I didn’t miss the way he smiled when he saw me. He made his way over to the bar immediately, and I had to figh
t to keep from blushing. I was the bartender, after all; he was just coming straight to me so he could get a drink.
But without ordering a drink, he dropped onto a stool at the end of the bar. “How’s it going, Abi?” he asked.
I shrugged, not sure how to answer that. “Well, this place is busy tonight,” I said, gesturing around the bar.
“Yeah, it is,” Mason said, looking around in surprise, as though he was just now noticing. “Fiesta Night, huh. How are the nachos?”
“They’re fine,” I said, still feeling uncertain about this conversation. Things were so complicated. We were both interested in one another, but we couldn’t get involved in a relationship. There was nothing that said we couldn’t be friends, though, I reminded myself. I forced myself to relax, but I couldn’t seem to quit tapping my fingernails against the bar.
“How’s the corn field?” Mason asked, looking concerned. He probably thought that all my nervousness had to do with the state of the farm, not to do with him.
I sighed. “Things aren’t looking very good,” I admitted bluntly. “I mean, you saw it last night. I did what I could to clean things up today, but we lost a lot of good crop.”
“I had an idea,” Mason said, slowly. “For how you might be able to save the farm, without worrying about the crops.”
“Work harder here at Kinsey’s?” I asked, sarcastically. “I’m already pulling as many shifts as I can.”
“No, it’s to do with the farm,” Mason said, looking pleased with himself. “What if you turned it into some sort of harvest festival, zombie haunt?”
“What?” I asked, dumbly.
“I was out in the cornfields last night and all I could think was that the swaths the tractor cut reminded me of being in some sort of corn maze. I got to thinking, what if you could charge admission? Charge for parking, whatever. Just turn it into a big attraction.”
“What makes you think that would be the best way to save the farm?” I asked. “I’m not sure it would draw enough people.”
“But if you play up the idea of the farm being haunted, after that murder, you could draw all sorts of people,” Mason said, still sounding excited about the idea.
I frowned at him, thinking it over. The truth was, at this point, I was desperate for any way to save the farm. The crops plan had already basically failed. There was no way we were going to manage to harvest enough to pay off all the bills. But there were risks to the harvest festival idea too. We’d need to destroy more of the cornfields to make a corn maze. We’d need to advertise, make flyers and put something in the local paper and probably put something up online. We’d need to buy things like cups and plates for food, rent latrines, figure out the necessary permits, all sorts of things. It was a substantial investment.
I didn’t have time to think of it now, though. Kinsey was back at the bar, reminding me that I had another job, one that I should be doing right now.
Flushing, I straightened up, clearing my throat. “Can I get you a drink?” I asked Mason.
“The beer special and some nachos. And a couple tequila shots,” Mason said.
I stopped short of commenting on the tequila shots, even though I wondered who he was going to have them with. Did he already have his eye on someone else at the bar, even while he was scheming to save my family’s farm?
Not that it was any of my business.
I put his nacho order through to the kitchen and poured the drinks. Kinsey, meanwhile, slapped a hand on Mason’s shoulder. “How are you, bud?” he asked. “Things going well around the farm?”
“Oh yeah,” Mason said. “I mean, things are different now that David’s gone, but it’s been good. We’re working on expanding.”
“Good to hear,” Kinsey said. “Say, you don’t think you could talk your girl into the wet t-shirt contest tonight, could you?”
Mason laughed. “My girl?” he asked. “I wasn’t aware that I had one.” But his eyes flicked over towards me, his brows drawing in together.
“I’m not his girlfriend,” I said peevishly, setting his drinks down on the bar with a little more force than necessary, so the beer sloshed over the lip and all down the side of the glass.
Kinsey gave me a disapproving look, but it quickly melted into one of amusement. “If you’re not his girl, then why did he just buy you a tequila shot?”
I looked down at the glass that Mason had nudged towards me. “I don’t drink while I’m working,” I protested, but it was a weak protest at best. If I was going to make it through this night, with the wet t-shirt contest, Mason at the bar and everything else, I was going to need a little tequila inside of me.
Sighing, I poured a bit of salt on my hand, and knocked my glass against Mason’s. He grinned, and we both took the shot. “God, I can’t believe I’m serving that shit,” I muttered as I set the glass down. Mason couldn’t stop laughing for a minute, and I had to smile.
“Come on,” Kinsey said. “I need help with the wet t-shirt contest, and if you’re not going to participate, the least you can do is help out.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender. I did a quick scan of the bar and it seemed like everyone had drinks in front of them. Good.
I grinned at Mason. “You know, all the wet t-shirt competitors seem to be guys,” I told him. “All the guys who lost bets or got dared by their friends. But maybe you should think about entering. I sure wouldn’t mind seeing you up there.”
Mason raised an eyebrow at me. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t done anything to warrant your wanting to dump a bucket of water over me, so I’m going to assume you actually just want to see what my abs look like. If so, stop by the farm any time,” he said, teasingly.
“Maybe I just want to see if you’d really go through with it,” I said. Was I flirting with him? I couldn’t be flirting with him. But all the same, I liked the mental image that his words conjured up, him shirtless on the farm in the summer sun. Or him here, in Kinsey’s, with water dripping off of him.
I slipped out from behind the bar just as Ella flounced in, going straight up to Mason. “Hey baby,” she said, draping her arms around him and leaning in.
Mason shifted to accommodate her weight, and even though I knew it was an automatic move and that he probably hadn’t even registered who she was yet, it still rankled me. I wanted to believe that Ella wasn’t pregnant and that she wasn’t pregnant with Mason’s child. But I couldn’t imagine Ella being quite so forward about it, telling the whole town about it, if she wasn’t really sure. It would be pretty obvious that she wasn’t pregnant soon—if she wasn’t.
Either way, I didn’t need to insert myself into the middle of their drama.
But again, the image of Mason, dripping wet in a white t-shirt, his abs clearly defined against the soaking wet material, came into my head. Only suddenly, the image shifted, his shirt disappearing. Wouldn’t I love to chase those droplets of water with my tongue, to kiss my way along his hard body sculpted from so many years of work on the ranch?
I swallowed hard, wondering what Ella was even there for. Had she finally brought proof that she was pregnant? By why spring that on Mason here, in a crowded bar?
Because then everyone will know, I realized, looking around. Half the town was here, and the other half would hear about it in no time. She really was trying to make this as public as possible. I shook my head and grabbed a rag, scrubbing at the bar and watching Mason’s reaction out the corner of my eye. I should help Kinsey with the wet t-shirt contest, I knew. And I shouldn’t get involved in Mason’s business. But I wasn’t above calling the bouncer over and having Ella kicked out. Tonight was meant to be fun for everyone.
I tried to listen in.
Chapter 13
Mason
I could tell that Abi wasn’t happy to see Ella arrive, and that she especially wasn’t happy with the way the other girl was putting her hands all over me. To be honest, I wasn’t particularly happy about it either. I tried to disentangle myself from her grip,
but I didn’t want to make a scene and she wasn’t giving me much choice.
“Ella, get off me,” I muttered, through gritted teeth.
“Oh, don’t be like that!” Ella chirped. “I have some news for you.”
“Spill it,” I told her.
“I think this is the sort of thing that you’d want to hear in private,” Ella purred. “Come on, let’s go back to my place. Or yours, your choice.”
“Don’t think I’m stupid enough to fall for that,” I snapped. If I walked out of there with Ella right now, we’d be the talk of the town by morning.
“Stupid enough to fall for what?” Ella asked innocently, widening her eyes at me. “I just figured this was something that you’d want to talk about in private.” She gazed pointedly around the room. “You know, so that everyone in town doesn’t know our business.”
I hated the way she said that. Our business. As though she and I had any business together.
“Look, I don’t think for one minute that you’re actually pregnant,” I said, peevishly. “So it’s not our business. And whatever you have to say to me, unless you have proof of it, I don’t want to hear it.”
“I do have proof,” Ella said simply. “But unless you come with me to my place, you’ll never know.”
“Never?” I asked archly. “I’ll be proven right in a few more months at least.”
Ella rolled her eyes. Then, she followed my gaze to Abi. “You don’t want her to hear, do you?” she asked. “After all, I’m sure she doesn’t want to get mixed up with a soon-to-be dad. Or end up pregnant, herself.”
“Ella, fuck off,” I snapped. I’d been brought up not to use words like that to a woman, but if any woman deserved them, it was Ella. She was just trying to cause trouble any way she could, and I was sick of it.
Ella raised her eyebrows at me. “Aww, Mason—do you have a crush on her?”
I scowled at her. “I just want you to leave other people out of this,” I told her.