by Karen Rock
With that, she led Harley to the gate, one hand trailing along the ring’s fence top for guidance.
After pushing the automatic opener, she marched out into the empty space, squinted for the stable’s brown, rectangular shape, and more or less followed Harley, who headed directly for his stall out of habit.
She needed to do this on her own.
If someone rescued her, that person owned her. Not because she’d owe them—she could always find a way to repay a favor. They owned her because she’d stop being the lead in her story anymore. She’d become the poor struggling loser/helpless damsel who was saved from danger/dishonor/humiliation by the brilliant, brave, compassionate hero, and he got to decide which, because she wouldn’t be the one running this story, not anymore.
Once inside, she collapsed into the soft hay and buried her face in her hands.
“Cowgirl up,” she whispered to herself.
But her shoulders shook and hot tears splashed down her cheeks. She. Could. Not. Take. This.
“Amberley?”
Strong hands fell on her shoulders. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, unable to speak without her voice betraying her.
The hay rustled as Jared kneeled before her. His thumbs brushed the damp from her cheeks, the gesture achingly tender. “Tell me what I can do.” His voice was deep. Gentle. The same tone she’d heard him use a hundred times when soothing frightened foals.
“Please.” The single word emerged in a sob. “Leave.”
He pulled her into his arms instead, and his steady heartbeat drummed against hers, the warmth of his lithe, muscular body seeping through his shirt. “Anything but that.”
She lifted her tear-streaked face, trying to meet his eye, to convey everything she felt, the despair, the anguish, every black emotion welling up inside her. She couldn’t bear any of it. A choking sound escaped her.
His hands smoothed down her back. “Shhhhhhhhhh,” he breathed in her ear. A shiver tore through her. “I’ve got you, darlin’.” He squeezed her waist. “I’ve got you.”
Her fingers landed on his rounded shoulders and dented the firm flesh. His body was warm and hard...solid in a way nothing in her life was right now. She buried her head in the cords of his neck. “Please,” she whimpered, not even sure what she begged for anymore, a flood of sensations at his proximity jumbling her emotions.
His hands rose to cup the back of her head, and then he angled her face up to his. The unexpected move struck the air from her lungs. Was he about to—
His mouth grazed hers, the barest of touches, and then, when she didn’t move away, he kissed her properly, with increasing pressure, the brush of his lips electrifying, scattering her thoughts. He tasted like caramel apples and smelled like leather and sandalwood. Was this real?
With a low moan, her mouth parted under the cowboy’s onslaught and her body reacted at once: a prickling at her legs, a thumping heart. Her bones lost their snap, and she melted against him. Their short breaths mingled in the stall. Fast and hard. His arms wove around her and held her close. When her head tipped back, her hat fell off and her braid whisked over the curve of his tensing bicep.
A deep groan ripped out of him, a sound she’d never heard from him before. Passionate. Masculine. Primal. Frissons of delicious awareness skittered over her flesh. Then he kissed her more urgently and she responded in kind. Light-headed, she held on tight, the world in a tailspin. Their tongues tangled in a dance that made her pulse race and her skin burn.
“Amberley.” He breathed her name like an invocation, barely breaking their kiss.
“Hmm?” She threaded her fingers in the crisp strands of his hair, unable to open her eyes.
His lips slid across her jaw, nibbling the sensitive flesh of her earlobe before they glided lower along her jaw. “You’re beautiful, babe.”
Babe?
He called all of his girls babe. Especially when he couldn’t remember their names.
Tension locked up every inch of her. She propped an eye open. Then the other. Despite her lack of vision, she could suddenly see this disastrous moment clearly. In minutes, he’d gone from treating her like a child to seducing her like one of his flings.
And she was neither.
She leaned away, inserting space between them without untangling their arms. “Jared!”
Sparks continued exploding along the skin his mouth explored. She pushed against his hard chest. “Stop.”
He lifted his head slowly and gazed down at her. For the first time, she felt glad she couldn’t read his expression. His hold loosened and she wiggled back until her spine bumped against the stall’s wooden slats. Her chest expanded, drawing in a shaky breath.
“Why did you do that?” she demanded.
“I wanted to—to—” He faltered, suddenly uncertain, his usual brash confidence gone. “Comfort you,” he finished quickly.
“Comfort me?” she echoed, not sure if she’d heard him right.
“You were crying and I felt...”
“Sorry for me?” She pushed to her feet on trembling limbs, her entire body aflame. Her spine pulled tight as a rope. “You kissed me out of pity?”
He stood, too, and his hands waved. “No.”
“What, then? So, you don’t feel sorry for me?”
“I do, it’s just—”
“Just what?” she demanded.
“You kissed me back.”
She pressed her lips together, forcing herself to ignore the remembered feel of his mouth gliding over hers. Her blood throbbed in her veins. “That was a mistake.”
“You didn’t like it?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
He closed the distance between them. One finger skated down the side of her cheek. “Doesn’t it?”
“Get out.” She pointed toward the sunlight glinting over Harley’s head. “Now.”
“But I—”
“Now!”
“Everything alright in here?”
She ducked her head at Maverick’s voice and turned, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “Jared was just leaving,” she said without turning.
“That right?” Maverick drawled, a hint of menace entering his voice. “Glad to show him the way, then.”
“No need.” The ache in his voice made her heart clench as tight as a fist. “Bye, Amberley.”
She didn’t release her breath until she heard the stall door click closed behind him.
“You sure you’re alright?” asked Maverick, his deep voice now full of concern.
“I’ll be fine.”
When the world fell silent again, she buried her face in Harley’s soft mane, not fine at all.
How could she have kissed her best friend?
Chapter Six
“HEY. ARE YOU listening to me?”
Jared nodded quickly at the attractive woman sitting across from him. They occupied a narrow wooden booth in a honky-tonk on the outskirts of Carbondale. The dive reeked of spilled beer, burnt popcorn and stale body odor from the herd of cowboys who’d stampeded in for tonight’s ninety-nine-cent wing special and the latest Diamondbacks game. Wall-mounted speakers blasted a thumping Tim McGraw tune he recognized. “A Real Good Man.” A crowd of line dancers dipped, clapped and twirled on the scuffed wooden dance floor.
His stomach twisted. He’d been anything but a good man to Amberley today. And nowhere near a good friend.
“Jared!” Long, glitter-tipped nails drummed on the tabletop.
“Yep. Sorry.” His eyes drifted over the petite blonde whose electric blue eye shadow matched her camisole top and the floral clip in her hair. She’d sure gone to a lot of trouble for their first date, and she deserved a better time than he was showing her. He’d been looking forward to tonight, right up until the unforgettable kiss with Amberley that’d left him staggering and off balance a
ll day.
Why had he done such a fool thing?
And why couldn’t he stop thinking about it?
She’d felt right in his arms, her mouth beneath his sweet and incredibly tender.
“Yes, what?” his date demanded.
Now, what was her name...? He’d been in a fog since leaving Spirit Ranch and forgot to double-check with Jewel.
“Sorry, Lori. I—”
Penciled brows met over her short, flat nose. “It’s Layah.”
“Well, that’s a real pretty name. Just like you,” he said sincerely, ducking his head and smiling at her from beneath the brim of his hat. His friends called it his lady-killer smile, though Jewel told him serial killer was more like it.
A preen replaced Layah’s pout. “Why, thank you. You see, my grandma’s name is Leigh and my pa is a big Star Wars fan so—”
The woman’s voice drifted as his mind replayed earlier events. Seeing Amberley struggle in the ring today nearly broke his heart and then, when he’d found her crying—crying, when, he’d never so much as heard her sniffle in all their years as friends—the effect devastated him. For the first time in his life, he’d felt helpless. He needed to dry her tears, heal her wounds, stop her pain. He’d swept her into his arms before he thought twice about it. In an instant, she’d become someone else, a stranger, a warm, beautiful vulnerable stranger that his heart responded to in an altogether different way.
He relived the feel of her in his arms nonstop. The unguarded expression on her face had done something crazy to his heart, like nearly stopping it altogether.
“So when my ma went into labor during Return of the Jedi, well my pa said they couldn’t just leave—”
Jared nodded and smiled along to Layah’s harmless prattle, trying hard, but failing to focus. Amberley’s accusation echoed in his head.
“You felt sorry for me!”
No denying, he had pitied her, the last thing in the world a gal like Amberley ever wanted or deserved. He’d be lying to himself, though, if he blamed sympathy for his passionate response.
No woman ever affected him that way, and it blew his mind that Amberley, his best friend, had done him in. The way she’d responded had made him lose his head and nearly his control. Electric. Passionate. Unbridled. It’d been like holding on to a rocket ship that’d lit out for the moon.
And he hadn’t wanted to let go.
“The contractions started coming fast when the Emperor—” Layah paused to sip the last of her beer “—when the Emperor shot Luke with those laser fingers. Never could figure out why he could do that since Jedi used light sabers.”
Jared caught their waitress’s eye and crooked a finger, signaling for another round. “He was a Sith.”
Layah’s navy-coated lashes blinked at him. “A what?”
“He was a Sith Lord.”
“Huh.” Layah lifted the edge of her empty bottle’s label with a fingernail and shrugged. “Anyways, the usher told my parents—”
Jared grabbed his bottle and gulped the rich local brew, his eyes peeled on Layah’s fast-moving mouth, his thoughts adrift despite his best efforts.
Could he have feelings—romantic ones—for his longtime friend? Impossible. Amberley was a pal. A rough-and-tumble gal far different from the girlie-girls he dated, like Layah. In fact, strange as it sounded, he’d never thought of Amberley being a woman much, given she gave as good as she got whenever they’d competed, raced motorcycles, camped, fished and ridden the range.
Yet that kiss had ripped off his blinders. Would he ever see Amberley the same way again? Could he forget the responsive woman who’d driven him senseless and transfixed his heart?
She’d been right to send him packing. Crossing the line didn’t come close to describing the wrong he’d done to her...done to both of them. The kiss tested their friendship’s bond, but would not break it, he vowed. From here on out, he’d keep his distance, romantically.
He wouldn’t stop helping Amberley, however. He’d find another way was all. She’d looked good up on Harley, and come hell or high water he’d get her back in the saddle and out into the world. Life was a dimmer place without her in it.
He needed to apologize for starters. Then he’d present her with a new plan of action, a grand gesture that’d convince her to give him—and herself—another chance.
“So, they stuck me in the popcorn maker to keep me warm until the ambulance arrived,” Layah finished with a flourish. She beamed a bright smile at their returning waitress and accepted her new beer.
“The popcorn maker?” he echoed after their server whisked away their empties.
“Mmm-hmm,” Layah murmured, the bottle to her mouth.
He stared at her for a minute, and then she lowered her drink and burst out laughing. “I got you!”
“Was any of that story true?”
Her left eyebrow twitched. “My dad is a Star Wars fan.”
“I’m sorry.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. Her fingernails scratched against his palm. “Guess I’m not at my best tonight.”
The tip of her tongue appeared between her teeth as she regarded him. “Even halfway for you is still awesome.”
“Now you’re being too easy on me.”
“Probably.” She giggled. “But you’re worth it.”
And that was the problem, he thought, staring into Layah’s twinkling, iridescent coated eyes. Things came too easily for him. Somehow that didn’t set so well anymore after watching Amberley and the kids at the program battle their challenges. Despite their hardships, they fought on. That seemed more heroic than his life, no matter his achievements.
If he didn’t work hard for his blessings, did he deserve them as much as they did?
Amberley was correct to call him out for quitting football when he wouldn’t let her give up. And she didn’t even know the full story. If she did, she’d call him a flat-out hypocrite.
And she’d be right.
“I’ve got to get up early tomorrow for my hospital shift, so...”
“Occupational therapist, right?” He threw some cash on the table, stood and walked around the table to pull out her chair.
“You remembered.” She slid her purse strap up her arm.
“Miracles happen.”
A smile played on her lips. “Yes, they do.”
“Can I make it up to you another time, darlin’?”
“Depends.”
“On...?”
“If whoever you were really thinking about tonight will still be on your mind.”
His eyes dropped at her direct stare. “I’ll make sure of it.” No more dwelling on Amberley as anything other than a friend, he vowed silently. Or on that kiss.
“I’ll hold you to that.” She trailed a finger up his bicep, then squeezed. “My,” she breathed. “How many footballs you think you’ve caught with these?”
“Not enough,” he said as they headed to the exit. His agent had left another “last chance” message about trying out as a free agent again.
As they passed the line dancers, a familiar silver-haired woman caught his eye.
“Ma?”
She didn’t hear him over the thumping music and continued stomping forward and back next to, of all people, Boyd Loveland. A few of her church friends fanned out on each side. Did they meet by chance or plan?
Their beaming smiles suggested this was no coincidence. Why keep this from the family? Sure, they’d all landed in jail the last time she’d tried dating Boyd, but she owed them the truth.
Just last week the Lovelands sold off their antique tractors at a local auction to raise cash. Everyone knew Boyd would do about anything to scrape together the money to save his ranch...and it seemed courting Ma still topped that list.
Not on Jared’s watch.
His boots carried him to
the edge of the dance floor. He crossed his arms and waited for his mother to notice him. The hem of her skirt floated around her knees as she twirled, and her smile flashed beneath the twinkling lights strung from the overhead beams.
When was the last time he’d seen her so happy and relaxed? he thought with a twinge.
“Is that your ma and pa?” asked Layah, pointing to the laughing couple.
“My father died eleven years ago.”
The song ended and Boyd brought Ma’s hand to his mouth. Their eyes locked.
“Ma!” he called.
Her head whipped around and her face fell. She hurried over, Boyd hot on her heels. Behind her, the DJ and his crew began dismantling their sound equipment.
“I—I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, breathless.
“You look pretty tonight,” he said. She smoothed down her skirt and returned his uneasy smile. “What are you doing with him?” He angled his head at Boyd.
“Howdy.” Boyd stuck out a hand and Jared shook it reluctantly.
He wouldn’t be rude and make a scene like he and his siblings had at last year’s Christmas party. It’d devastated his ma. Afterward, she’d retreated into the sad silence that had surrounded her after Jesse’s death. Tonight, she resembled her old self, though—the vibrant mother he missed.
“I came for the line dancing.” Boyd faced Jared full on, eyes steady, jaw firm. “And for Joy.”
Ma twisted the turquoise pendant that matched her skirt and dyed snakeskin boots. “May and Jessica drove me. We met Boyd here.”
“You planned on seeing each other?” Jared asked, careful to pitch his voice low. If his siblings knew about this, they’d blow a fuse.
“I’m Layah Jennings, by the way.” Jared’s date smiled politely at his ma and Boyd.
“Layah, this here’s my ma, Joy Cade.” He stressed the last name, his intent gaze never leaving Boyd’s unflinching face. He’d give the old cowboy one thing. Like all Lovelands, he was tough as boot leather and didn’t give an inch.
“Bye, Joy. Bye, Boyd,” called May and Jessica on their way out the door.
“Don’t you need them for a ride?”