Cowboy Outcasts

by Stacey Espino

  “Go ahead,” she dared.

  His jaw clenched down hard, his dark eyes boring into hers. “Dangerous games you like to play.” Callum hoisted her up over his shoulder, stealing her air, and carried her to the far end of the hay loft where shadows dominated. He dropped her down on some open flakes, straddling her legs and pinning her arms to the sides.

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  His eyes cleared for a moment. “Don’t flatter yourself, little girl,” he said. “When my daddy was alive, do you know what he did when we misbehaved? He gave us the belt.” He used one hand to secure her wrists above her head and used the other to slide his thick leather belt from his Wranglers.

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “You think there’s something good in me? You’re wrong. And I’m about to prove that.”

  Her heart raced as he made a loop with the belt. She’d never been spanked in her life, but she’d always been an obedient child. He fought to unbutton her jeans and she struggled to stop him. Once unfastened, he attempted to roll her to her belly. No way would she willingly let him hide her ass.

  “Stop, Callum!” She was exhausted, near tears from frustration. His burst of energy appeared to quickly diminish after she said his name, his movements sluggish. She could feel some of his weight over her, the heat of his breath against her neck, and his fingers interlocked with hers.

  “You should leave,” he whispered.

  “No.”

  He growled, an exasperated sound of a man pushed to the edge. His hand travelled from her hand, up her arm, until he reached the side of her neck. He stroked her skin with his thumb. “I’m a monster,” he reminded.

  “You’re not.”

  When he dropped his head again, she kissed his neck as he’d done to her in the morning. It felt right. It also unleashed a floodgate of desire she didn’t realize resided inside her. She continued to kiss him, nudging his face with hers, needing more. The passionate release of emotion, combined with their physical exertion, created a ripe atmosphere to explore their desires.

  “Hailey…” He relaxed his grip on her. She immediately began to touch his body, having craved to feel his muscles every time she saw him. He was hard and toned, all male. She slid one hand under his tank top, skin to skin.

  “Kiss me,” she begged. The air snapped with erotic tension. If he chose to fuck her right there in the hay, she’d welcome it. Her body felt like a furnace, liquid heat threatening to escape any minute.

  When he turned his face to hers, she licked the seam of his lips, but he didn’t give her access. Why was he so reluctant? Was she alone in her desires? Had she pegged him wrong all along and he really did hate her?

  His breathing was heavier but he still refused to act, finally pulling off her body and standing. “Trust me. You don’t want a man like me.” Then he climbed down the stairs leaving her achy and wanting.

  ****

  Refusing Hailey had been the hardest thing in the world for Callum to do. His cock was painfully hard, every cell in his body screaming within him to take her, to drown in her heat. Her pink lips were full and tempting. He wanted to feel them brush against his, to know her entire body intimately.

  When she had first shown up, he didn’t even bat an eye. After only two days he’d already developed a physical attraction to the girl. His fondness continued to grow, a dangerous prospect for Callum. Men like him didn’t have families. They survived on the fringe of society.

  He’d been humiliated at the market, ousted for his differences, brought down several pegs in front of the only girl that mattered. She’d looked at him like a regular man, treated him normally even when his Tourette’s got out of hand. It had been a dream all along. Jeremy’s attack only proved a relationship would never work. He was ashamed of who he was and would never be accepted by others, no matter how much he wanted to fit in. Hailey deserved a normal life with a normal man. He had a dark history, one filled with painful memories beginning when he was just a young boy. One girl couldn’t undo decades of damage with sweet words and promises of sex. He was a lost cause.

  He kicked off his boots after entering the kitchen. His symptoms were driving him nuts, always acting up at the most inopportune times. Some days he’d scream as loud as he could out in the fields, other times he’d punch a wall so hard his knuckles would bleed. It was all in vain. His Tourette’s had no cure, no magic pill, and nothing he did would ease the symptoms. His curse, one passed down from generation to generation of O’Shea men, was his whether he deserved it or not. Arden had been lucky to escape unscathed, as normal as any other person. But he squandered the gift of normalcy Callum yearned for, drinking his life away.

  Callum crashed onto his bed, hot, bothered, and angry with the world. He was used to Jeremy and all the other assholes who felt they had the right to bring him down. He’d learned to ignore them. Hailey was the problem. In only a couple days she’d given him hope, made him dream of a life that was never meant for him. He was better off before she showed up on his doorstep.

  He combed his hands through his hair, staring at the ceiling. What if it took Hailey a month to conduct her research? He had to avoid her at all costs. She was confused, pumped up on the adrenaline from the earlier chaos. But once the dust settled she’d realize what a loser he was, and what a mistake it would be to invest in him. He may be a fuck-up, but he wouldn’t take advantage of a woman’s trust.

  Chapter Six

  For the rest of the week Hailey found fresh fruit and vegetables on the kitchen counter every morning. She never saw Callum. He left the house before the sun rose and he avoided her at every cost. She’d thought things were just starting to go well between them…now she didn’t know what to think. She had to return to treating the assignment as the research it was. Daydreams and fantasies about the Irish cowboy would only serve to dampen her spirits.

  She’d made minor progress in tracking the hogs’ lifestyle, their eating and sleeping habits, and preferred diet. She was testing sound deterrents, natural scents, and other known wildlife inhibitors.

  Hailey was boiling some pasta late one afternoon when the screen door whacked shut. She jumped, turning around in a hurry, nearly knocking over the pot.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you saw Arden at the market?” Callum’s voice was deep and irate. His accent was always more defined when he was mad. This was the first time he’d acknowledged her existence in days, and even though the attention was negative, she was glad to hear his voice. She didn’t know how he handled the loneliness for a year alone.

  “You haven’t exactly spoken with me since.”

  He paced the kitchen until the door opened again. “That’s not the homecoming I was expecting,” said Arden. He watched Hailey from across the room and it felt as if he undressed her with those narrowed blue eyes.

  “You left! What right do you have to waltz back in after a year on the road?” asked Callum.

  Arden was the opposite of his brother—calm, controlled, and confident. “I believe it’s my name on the deed, little brother. Now stop being such a baby and welcome me home proper.”

  “I won’t. I’ve been busting my balls on this ranch since you left. Not even a damned phone call from you.”

  They faced off as if she wasn’t in the room. She felt like an outsider looking in.

  “You think I want to live like this, preserving a relic from the past? I want more from my life than horse shit and lonely nights. You’re the one dead set in not selling, and throwing your life away,” said Arden.

  “If your ideas were so great, then why are you back? Shouldn’t you be living the high life in the city, sipping margaritas with your classy friends?”

  “What? I can’t miss my kid brother?” Arden pulled out a wooden chair and sat down, leaning over his knees. “You know I’ve worried about you every day. And as soon as I get into town I find the same assholes trying to pick a fight with you. This town has nothing for us, Callum.”

  “It’s our
home. Mom and Dad built everything on this ranch. How could you sell something that’s priceless?”

  “It’s time to move on. I can’t fight for you forever.”

  “We’re not in grade school anymore, Arden. You don’t have to beat down every jerk who tries to mock me. I can handle it. I have been handling it.”

  Arden grumbled his disagreement. Once they’d both been silent for a few minutes, quietly contemplating, they seemed to remember she was in the room with them at the same moment.

  “That’s right… I heard you were keeping a cute young thing with you on the ranch, but I didn’t believe it until I saw her at the market with my own eyes.” Arden stood up, his leather boots creaking. He approached her, taking measured steps as if she were a skittish green broke horse.

  “She’s not mine. She does research for the university.”

  “An educated woman,” said Arden, his gaze taking in every detail of her face. She swallowed hard.

  “I’m–I’m trying to help with the hogs.” She bit her lip to keep from talking. The man exuded raw sexuality, it was hard not to become affected.

  “It’s dinner hour. That mean you’re staying on?”

  She nodded.

  “And where would you be sleeping?” He stared at her like a hawk. He knew she was staying in his bed, it was written all over his face. Her senses became magnified—the sound of the boiling water behind her, the shift in Callum’s stance, and the barn door flapping in the distance. Could Arden feel her anxiousness, her desire?

  There was something magical about this place, these two men. Her life at the university was another realm where she was a different person, a nameless face where she had to fight to be noticed. She felt more alive here, living simply, at one with nature. The desperate need to advance, to prove herself, didn’t overpower her thoughts on the O’Shea Ranch. She was discovering herself after a lifetime of studying and stifling her emotions. It was more important for her to learn about Callum, and to earn back his favor. Unraveling a complex man was more engaging than learning about wild hogs.

  “Your room,” she whispered in reply. He wasn’t reluctant to invade her personal space. A faint scent of alcohol and musk clung to him. He reminded her of the great outdoors, untamed and free.

  “Now that’ll be a problem.”

  “Leave her alone,” said Callum. “You’ve been in town for nearly a week, so you’ve obviously been staying somewhere. Maybe you should go there now.”

  ****

  Arden had perfected the ability to control his temper over the years. He had hot blood from his father running through his veins. It wasn’t easy to rile him but mess with his family and he couldn’t hold back. Fighting came natural to him. It got him kicked out of high school more times than he could count, and he had the scars to prove it. The O’Shea reputation started with their father not taking shit when local distributors tried to rip him off by paying less per ton than other non-Irish farmers. It carried on when Arden refused to let the school boys tease his brother.

  Callum meant the world to him. He was the reason he’d stayed on the family ranch for so long. He felt a duty to be his little brother’s protector, to maintain that one familial link left in his life.

  He’d tried to leave, but he found drifting to not be all he expected. He was thirty-two now and the cowboys he competed against in the rodeo were twenty-year olds in the prime of their career. He couldn’t compete with that. He found he spent more time in local pubs trying to forget absolutely everything—his parents, his brother, his career…his loneliness.

  He could tell Callum had a thing for the little blonde. She was cute, an air of innocence surrounding her. He usually went for confident women, experienced in pleasuring a man. He wasn’t below paying for sex, either. It was simpler that way—no emotional bother. But since the girl was staying in his bed, she was fair game.

  “Maybe I’ll just have to share a bed with… What’s your name, sweet thing?”

  “Hailey Watson.”

  “Pretty.” He ran the backs of his fingers along her jaw, watching her quickly fall for his charms. It was so easy. Then Callum’s heavy hand came down on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around.

  “There’s plenty of good hay in the barn.”

  Maybe little brother liked Ms. Watson more than he expected. He’d never seen Callum act so possessively. He usually drifted through life, trying to steer clear from everyone. The fact he let someone stay on the ranch was shocking.

  “No, I’ve come a long way to enjoy my own bed,” said Arden. “I’ve been dreaming about it all those nights on the road.”

  “Then she’ll stay with me.”

  Hailey looked up, locking eyes with Callum. So, she felt something for his brother in return. He’d always hoped Callum would be able to find a woman of his own one day, a good woman, one who’d love him unconditionally. But he gave up hope long ago. It was increasingly evident that people with Tourette’s were the brunt of every cruel and crude joke. It wasn’t just the townsfolk. The uneducated slurs were on the big screen, local television, and popular radio stations. There was no escape for his brother.

  He shrugged. “Whatever suits you, Callum. I have to head back into town to pick up a few things. Be back in a few hours.” It was time to goad Callum, to bring some sibling rivalry into the mix. He had to keep from laughing when he lifted Hailey’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “Until we meet again, baby doll.”

  Callum grabbed him by the sleeve and damn near threw him out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. He chuckled as he walked to his truck, pulling a small flask from his inside pocket. Being back on the old ranch brought him mixed feelings. Although there was a sense of security in the familiarity, he also experienced an overshadowing feeling of doom and gloom. He didn’t want to live out the rest of his life isolated from the world, no chance of a future. His daddy came to their country, worked like a dog, and died just as broke and weary as when he started. Arden wanted more—he just didn’t know what, yet.

  ****

  Bastard, bastard, bastard! Arden showed up out of the blue and immediately went after his woman. Well, not his woman, but Arden didn’t know that. He may be the little brother, but only by three years, and he was no smaller in size. Powerful surges of jealousy nearly made him dizzy. His fucking Tourette’s was testing him, pushing him over the edge, as if things weren’t bad enough between him and Hailey.

  He felt like an ass, but that’s what he’d wanted—to push her away. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  “Do you know what a charmer is?” he asked, his breathing still labored. Callum closed the distance between them.

  “I suppose.”

  “That’s what my brother is. He’ll use you, get what he wants, and then be gone faster than the morning dew in summer.”

  She scoffed. “Did I appear to fall for sweet words and kisses?”

  “Most women do when it comes to Arden.”

  She turned around and stirred her pasta. “Not me.”

  Why couldn’t words come to him as easily as Arden? He’d never be able to woo a woman properly, even if he wanted to.

  “Then you’re a rarity.” He turned to leave. “I’ll be in the yard.”

  “Callum!”

  He stopped dead, closing his eyes and taking a breath out of her sight. With his back still to her, he replied, “What is it?”

  “Why are you mad at me?” There was insecurity in her tone, a pleading note. He wanted to wipe it away when he was the one to put it there in the first place.

  “I ain’t mad at you or anyone. I’m just tired is all.”

  “Of what?”

  “Life.”

  She ran both her palms down his back. He stiffened, straightening his posture. Callum hadn’t expected her to touch him or reach out after the way he’d treated her. Was it a sign?

  “Don’t say that. Life is whatever you make it.” She nudged him until he turned. Those beautiful, big, doe eyes looked up at him. He was immediately
held captive.

  “Only I don’t have a full deck. You saw for yourself how others look at me. I guarantee they’d look at you the same way if we were an item.”

  “I guess it’s good I don’t care then.” She smiled. He’d missed that sweet smile, and felt like an asshole for trying to steal it away.

  “You say that now…”

  The boiling water began to make the pot lid dance. She rushed over and turned off the stove. She mustn’t have expected to see him because she was only wearing a skimpy pair of cotton shorts and a tank top which barely covered her midriff. She had a fine figure. As she reached over the stove, he caught a glimpse of her panties. White.

  His control wavered. What would it feel like to spend a night with a woman who meant more to him than just cheap thrills? It was a recipe for disaster, one his heart probably wouldn’t survive should things go sour. But he couldn’t keep away. Her soft little body called to him, a beacon in a stormy sea.

  He wrapped his arms loosely around her waist from behind, savoring the feel of having her close. He’d been lying to himself. Callum did want to own her, to call her his woman. But the commitment and potential for disaster terrified him.

  Her breath hitched. Hailey spun around in his arms.

  “You’re staying in my room tonight,” he said.

  She nodded.

  “Nothing will happen unless you want it to happen,” he reassured.

  “I want it,” she murmured, lips swollen and delectable. Hailey fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, seeming to completely forget about her meal. “You know I want it.”

  He still remembered the day he’d left her in the hayloft rather than making love to her. It had been a mistake, but he was too emotionally compromised at the time.

  “I don’t know about the boys at the university, but things may be different than you’re used to.”