Wound Tight: A Rough Riders/Blacktop Cowboys Crossover

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Wound Tight: A Rough Riders/Blacktop Cowboys Crossover Page 5

by Lorelei James


  After Callie disappeared around the corner, Breck Christianson’s voice boomed behind him.

  “Hey, JD, there you are.”

  JD. Only his former rodeo buddies called him that. He faced Breck. “Now that you’re technically my boss, am I supposed to call you Mr. Christianson?”

  He snorted. “Hell no. And I’m not your boss. I don’t know why Chuck didn’t just tell everyone that you’re the bull riding coach and I’m your assistant because I don’t have time to do it all.”

  “Chuck doesn’t ever do or say anything without thinking it through.”

  “True.” He paused. “You got settled into the bunkhouse okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You ready for this?”

  “Ask me next week when the dorms are full of rowdy teenagers.”

  Breck sighed. “Sorry. That part of this sucks.”

  “Given my transient lifestyle, I oughta be used to it, huh?” He backtracked. Wouldn’t want to oversell it. “I’ll admit that the bunkhouse at the Gradskys’ south ranch is much nicer. Private rooms and bathrooms.”

  “That’s in the works for the next expansion. But Chuck and Berlin didn’t expect the school would take off like it has. They only built four permanent cabins and seniority decides who gets them. With four married couples and no turnover or divorces in their respective departments…”

  “I get it. Single guy, bottom of the totem pole,” he joked.

  “I’d offer you my motor home—that’s what I lived in the first session until I moved in with Cres—but we still use it when we get free time.” He paused. “I could ask around and see if anyone else has a camper to lend you.”

  The offer surprised Justin.

  Breck’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “Honestly? The Breck I knew wouldn’t have given a damn if I lived in a cardboard box if me bein’ here would make things easier on him.”

  “Yeah. Well, that Breck don’t exist anymore.”

  “Good. He was an asshole.”

  Breck laughed.

  “Look, I’m sorry you went through all that shit with the CRA. I figured too much time had passed for me to reach out when I finally heard what’d happened. It wasn’t like I was homophobic or I didn’t want to be associated with you. After I left the PBR, I took low-key to a new level. After bein’ in the spotlight, I just wanted to be anonymous and isolated for a while, you know?”

  “Yeah, man. I know exactly what you mean. I did the same thing myself. But I appreciate you sayin’ that, JD.”

  “As long as we’re bein’ all sappy and shit, I’m happy that you’re living the life you never thought you could.”

  “Took me a long time to get to that point.”

  “Gives me hope I might get there myself someday.”

  “Who’da thought an alpha asshole like me who hid his preference for dick behind a reputation as a womanizer, a boozer, and a brawler, would have the happily ever before you, Mr. Clean Cut All-American Rule Follower?”

  “Rule follower? Piss off.”

  Breck laughed. “Just fucking with you.”

  “I know. I make my own rules. I follow my own path. There’s freedom in not knowin’ what’s next for me.”

  “You ever get tired of the gypsy life?”

  Like you wouldn’t believe. But that wasn’t an answer anyone expected from him, so he just shrugged.

  “Maybe this rodeo coach thing will work out for you and you’ll like bein’ in one place,” Breck offered.

  “It worked out for you. Cres seems like a good guy.”

  Breck’s face lit up. “He’s the best.”

  “You better be talkin’ about me,” Cres said, moving in beside Breck.

  “We were. I was tellin’ my fellow South Dakota farmboy that you ain’t bad…for a rancher.”

  “Neither one of us has been a farmboy for a long damn time.”

  “True dat.”

  “We’ll have you over for supper at our place some night,” Cres said. “You can tell me all about my old man’s high school rodeo glory days.”

  “That’ll be a short conversation, since I won the bull riding championship every year, ain’t that right, Christianson?” Justin said smugly.

  “Yeah, but who won the all-around title every year?” Breck shot back.

  “You…by the skin of your damn teeth.”

  “A win’s a win.” Breck draped his arm over Cres’s shoulders. “Do we know anyone who’s got a camper they’re not usin’? Justin is a little long in the tooth to be crashing in the dorms.”

  Justin raised an eyebrow. “Long in the tooth? Buddy, we’re the same age.”

  “I know. But this hot young thing makes me forget I hit the big 4-0 this year.”

  Cres blushed and elbowed Breck in the ribs.

  “Hey, here’s an idea. Have you met Callie?” Breck asked.

  There was a loaded question. “Briefly.”

  “She’s livin’ at the employee campground in her fifth wheel. Maybe she knows someone. You should swing by and talk to her.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “Cool. Let’s get the business stuff outta the way.”

  * * * *

  Three hours later, Justin flopped on the single bed in his room and closed his eyes, exhausted.

  Not physically exhausted since he hadn’t done a damn thing except walk and talk today, but mentally exhausted.

  His whole “I’m just a broken-down cowboy, thanks for this opportunity” bit had started to wear on him.

  Because it wasn’t true.

  And yet some days he couldn’t separate the truth from the lie—acting as if his life had morphed into a sad-sack country song, no woman, no job, nothing but an old pickup and a couple of championship belt buckles to show for his forty years of hard living.

  He wasn’t a dumb guy. He knew women were drawn to men who could provide for them. Where the disconnect happened was his assumption that security + money = love.

  Love didn’t have fuck-all to do with it. Money was everything. Without it…he was nothing to them. So the busted-up cowboy persona had started out as an experiment after his last serious girlfriend had dumped him because he hadn’t learned his lesson the first time.

  The first woman he believed he’d spend his life with had ended their relationship shortly after he’d taken a break from bull riding following his father’s sudden passing. She loved the envious looks from other women because she’d been fucking one of the top bull riders in the world. When that ride had ended, she informed him the perks of being with him were why she’d stuck around and she had no intention of becoming a farmer’s wife.

  That’d ripped at him like a motherfucker.

  He’d wallowed. Indulged in a few meaningless flings. Told himself he was working the wildness out of his system so when the right woman came along, he’d be ready to settle down. After dealing with his family issues, he rejoined the PBR tour and was top of the leaderboards for three years.

  The next time he’d felt that pull of wanting a real relationship, he’d taken things slow and his girl seemed genuinely happy just to be with him. After luring him into a false sense of love, she’d started complaining that running with his crowd created high expectations—so she’d “treated” herself to luxuries, supposedly to make him proud to have her on his arm. The expensive things she adorned herself with were meant to show him that she appreciated his hard work and to show the world how much he adored her.

  Justin hadn’t given a damn about stuff. He’d wanted to build a life with her, a home, a family. Somehow she’d convinced him that if buying her stuff made her happy…then didn’t it ultimately make him happy in the end too? Fucked-up logic, but he’d fallen for it. He’d wanted to believe she loved him more than his bank account…but when he’d merely curtailed his generosity with her, she loaded up the stuff he’d given her, called him a selfish, manipulative asshole and left him alone, questioning everything.

  That’s when Justin walked away from a life
that made him miserable.

  Rumors circulated in the Dallas society he’d fought tooth and nail to be a part of that he’d lost everything in a bad business deal and that’s why he’d disappeared.

  He didn’t confirm or deny. And he realized even his so-called friends chose to believe the worst about him rather than the best.

  Only one person knew the irony of the situation…that he’d quadrupled his personal wealth…and that was his older brother Jack.

  Jack was brilliant, especially when it came to money. When Justin started making a name for himself on the PBR circuit and earning more money than he’d ever seen, subsequently spending it almost faster than he could make it, his big brother had a come-to-Jesus meeting. But Jack hadn’t preached. Jack taught him how to manage his money. After a couple of years, the two brothers who’d been as different as night and day could spend hours on the phone discussing investment strategies.

  After his relationship fiascos and his supposed fall from grace, Justin felt free. He sold his toys and his house, keeping only his apartment in Denver. He spoiled his mom, taking her on fun, spontaneous vacations. Spending time with her filled a void in his life he’d ignored after his father had died. He’d also gotten to know his nieces and nephews—but that was a double-edged sword, as he suspected it was the closest he’d ever get to having kids of his own.

  He’d wandered for the past few years. He’d helped his buddy Chase McKay, another former PBR world champ, with his camps for urban kids that allowed them to experience a week in the Wild West. He’d spent a winter in Montana working for a logging company. He’d spent a summer in Idaho working on a dude ranch. Maybe it was the ultimate selfishness, but he’d done things that interested him and along the way had bettered him.

  He’d finally been ready to ditch the ramblin’ cowboy persona when he crossed paths with the Gradsky family. As a favor to his brother, he’d tagged along with his sister-in-law Keely when she’d gone to check out a couple of horses at the Gradskys’ ranch in southeastern Colorado. While Keely haggled with Berlin, Justin got to talking with Chuck, who mentioned they were short on workers as they’d recently expanded their business.

  Which was how he wound up taking a job as a ranch hand at their south ranch last year. When Chuck asked if he’d be interested in splitting his time between working with the rough stock and the students at their new rodeo academy north of Denver, he’d packed up his few belongings from one bunkhouse and moved to the next one.

  This was another short-term gig in a long line of short-term distractions. Justin hadn’t lied to Callie about his restlessness. While he looked forward to testing himself as an instructor, he knew it’d test him personally to live in a dorm situation with forty-some teenaged boys for nearly three months.

  Two knocks sounded on his door. He said, “Come in. It’s open.”

  Callie stepped inside and gave him a slow once-over, cocking an eyebrow at finding him stretched out on his bed in the middle of the workday.

  He fought a grin. Oh, that ruffled her pretty little feathers, seeing him slacking off his first day on the job.

  “I’m here on official business. Annie sent me to fetch you so you can tell her your food allergies.”

  “That’s easy. Tell her none.”

  “Tell her your own damn self,” she retorted. “Doesn’t look like you’re too busy to head up to the kitchens.”

  Justin laughed. “Busy is in the eye of the beholder.” He tapped his temple. “Maybe I was lesson planning.”

  “Maybe you were napping.”

  “Not that it’s your business, but I ran through my entire checklist with Chuck, delegated duties to the greenhorn, met with Cody about schedule changes and did a quick stock check.” He flashed her a smile. “All before the staff meeting.”

  Her cute little nose wrinkled. “Cody didn’t want you tagging along with Deke so he only had to go over things once with the new hands?”

  Justin sat up and dropped his boots to the wooden floor. “As long as you’re here…” He patted the empty spot beside him. “Let’s clear a few things up.”

  He expected her to argue. But she surprised him by saying, “I’m happy our earlier talk had my desired effect that you’re at least tryin’ to get me into bed” as she crossed the room and plopped down.

  “First off, I’m not a new hired hand. And I don’t mean because I’ve done the job before. I’ve been workin’ for Chuck and Berlin at the south ranch off and on for the past year.”

  Callie faced him. “Why didn’t Mr. G mention that in the meeting?”

  “Why does that matter to you?”

  “Because you shouldn’t be so…nonchalant about bein’ in a position of authority. It’s a big deal. Don’t you want the respect you deserve?”

  “Respect is earned.” He picked up her heavy braid and tickled the side of her neck with the end of it. “But I appreciate your concern about my virtue.”

  “Don’t poke fun at me.”

  She’d turned her head away.

  He dropped the braid and cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I’m not. My duties aren’t clearly defined yet so other employees will likely question my activities—or nonactivity—same as you have. But darlin’, you oughta know I have no problem bein’ in charge.”

  A small shudder moved through her and she closed her eyes. Then she circled her fingers around his wrist and moved his hand from her chin to her chest, flattening her palm over his knuckles.

  “Callie.”

  “Feel that?” she whispered. “How my heart is racing? You do that to me. I don’t know how I’m supposed to act around you now. Like you’re my boss? Like you’re my friend? Like we’re…”

  Justin waited five long seconds for her to finish that thought. When she didn’t, he said, “Look at me.”

  She shook her head.

  “Dammit, Callie. Look. At. Me.”

  When she aimed that lust-filled blue gaze at him, he was done for.

  He took her mouth in a desperate need for possession.

  Callie didn’t hesitate to give all of herself to him, but it wasn’t enough.

  He hauled her onto his lap, kissing her like crazy when she locked her ankles behind him.

  Her hands were in his hair.

  His hands were clamped onto her ass.

  Their mouths stayed fused together even as their tongues warred for supremacy.

  Harsh breathing, soft grunts, deep moans surrounded them as they lost themselves in each other.

  Justin didn’t know who’d started to slow the kiss down first. He just knew the sweet smooches, soft brushes of their lips, and the sugar bites were as necessary as their blatant show of hunger.

  Callie angled his head back by pulling his hair, immediately homing in on his neck.

  He kept his eyes closed as she mapped every cord and tendon with her mouth. The vibrations of her happy little moans as she discovered all of the spots went straight to his cock.

  Her intense focus on him was a fucking rush but she’d had her turn…now it was his.

  Justin wrapped her braid around his palm and tugged. “Scoot back.”

  As soon as his lips connected with the soft skin below her collarbones, he demanded more. “Tug your shirt down. I wanna taste all of you.”

  “Next time you don’t even have to ask.”

  Justin might’ve heard fabric tear she’d complied so fast, but he was in heaven. The heavy mounds of flesh quivered as he rubbed the scruff on his cheeks across every inch. He licked, nibbled, sucked, and kissed just the upper swells until she rocked her pelvis and tried to bite back her moans.

  And he hadn’t even touched her nipples yet.

  He buried his face in her cleavage and forced himself to slow down.

  Callie didn’t ask why he’d stopped. She just tenderly stroked his head.

  So many things crashed through his mind.

  They worked together, which meant they’d be in close proximity for the next three months. He knew th
e more time he spent with her, the harder it’d be to stay away from her when the workday ended. It’d been years since he’d felt this strong connection to a woman so quickly. He had no doubt they’d be dynamite in bed together and Callie had sworn she was only interested in a fling, so that was a plus. But how was he supposed to trust his instincts with her when they’d failed him every damn time when it came to women and relationships?

  “Hey. Stop thinking so hard. Or get back to what you were doing.”

  Chuckling at her sass, Justin kissed his way back up to her mouth.

  The kiss had started to heat up again when someone pounded on his door.

  They both froze, eyes locked, mouths barely a breath apart.

  “JD. You in there?” Deke demanded.

  “Yeah.”

  “Can I come in?”

  Callie’s eyes widened.

  He mouthed “Wait” and held onto her tighter in case she tried to escape. Then Justin turned his head so he wasn’t yelling in her face. “Only if you wanna see me buck-assed nekkid.”

  “Uh, pass. But kick it into high gear, okay? That Annie chick is ridin’ my ass about you meeting with her. She’s pissy that I’m the second person she’s sent to track you down today.”

  Callie buried her laugh in his neck.

  “I’ll get changed and meet you up there.”

  “Later.”

  Callie scooted off his lap and adjusted her shirt, then her pants, then her hair, avoiding looking him in the eyes.

  He didn’t like that she was retreating.

  “You okay?”

  “No. I shouldn’t be fucking around when I’m supposed to be working.”

  He pulled her in close. “Can we talk later?”

  She blinked at him. “We get sidetracked when we’re supposed to be talking.”

  Justin grinned. “I know.”

  “I have to work in town tonight. Maybe we can find time to talk tomorrow.”

  “Sure.” He kept watching her eyes, fascinated by the emotions she didn’t bother hiding. “What?”

  “Watch yourself with Annie, okay?”

  “Why? You jealous already? I’m flattered, sweetness.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Annie has been looking to become Mrs. Somebody since I started working here last year. After today’s meeting, she’ll have done her research on you, Justin.”

 

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