The Bull Rider's Twin Trouble

by Ali Olson

  Brock seriously doubted they’d be finding any giant rubies, but Jay’s plans always turned into great stories, and it would give Brock something to do after the rodeo. He had a feeling he might need something big to keep his mind off leaving Spring Valley. And the people that resided there. “Sounds like a plan,” Brock responded.

  “Great!” Jay said. “I’ll see you at the rodeo!”

  “See you,” Brock said, hanging up and sliding his phone into his back pocket.

  He sat back down on the bed, resolved to follow through with this new, likely dangerous, plan. It was good to have a reminder about what kind of life he was living. Anything that happened between him and Cassie couldn’t last. He’d have to move on eventually, and what better way to show that than to jump into a mine the day after he left town?

  Sure, Cassie was beautiful, and interesting, and seemed to have an amount of inner strength that intrigued him. Something about her pulled at him with an intense attraction he’d never experienced before. But she also had children and the kind of settled home life he wasn’t looking for and didn’t want. He’d worked so hard for so long to keep all that out of his future, and he couldn’t just chuck it away now.

  He was a rodeo bull rider, a thrill-seeker, a free spirit.

  Even though it had only been five minutes since his decision to wait another thirty, Brock gave up and pushed his cowboy hat onto his head as he went downstairs. After grabbing a crowbar from the storage shed beside his parents’ barn, Brock set off for the ranch next door.

  As he tromped across the lush expanse that separated his parents’ home from Cassie’s, Brock took a deep breath of the warm air, the smell of dust and grass as familiar as an old friend. The old Wilson place stood out against the mountain backdrop like something in a painting: the cozy ranch in the Texas countryside.

  Cassie’s smile disrupted his thoughts once more. Despite his reservations, maybe he would ask her out... He couldn’t offer her more than a nice night out or two, but he wasn’t sure he could withstand the pull between them altogether. But, he reminded himself, he really should wait a bit longer. Make sure she knew that he was there to help her, whether or not they were having fun on the side. That would give him a bit more time to think this through.

  Brock knocked on the door, confident that he had a solid game plan, only for everything to fall away the moment the door opened.

  Cassie stood there, her hair still slightly damp from her own shower, so fresh and enticing. “Thanks for coming over again. Do you mind if we go get paint instead of starting on the paddock? I’m going to meet a patient the day after tomorrow, so I’ll need to paint it tonight or tomorrow morning.”

  It was as if, in the small space of time they were apart, he’d convinced himself he could be patient around her. But seeing her now, the attraction was hitting him full force. The look of excitement on her face just added to it.

  Before his brain could stop him, he stepped forward and kissed her, his lips touching hers lightly at first, then harder when she responded. Her hand slipped around his neck to pull him against her. For a long moment, they melted together. When they finally broke apart, though, the expression on her face wasn’t promising. “Go out with me tonight,” Brock blurted out.

  Her expression only worsened, but there was nothing he could do now except continue on. “Nothing serious. I’m going back on the circuit in a couple weeks. I just thought that we...”

  He trailed off. Before she said anything, he knew what her answer would be. “I can’t,” she said, shaking her head. “Not with the boys, and Hank—”

  She paused, as if searching for the right words, but he knew he didn’t want to hear them. She was still in love with her valiant police officer husband, and any physical attraction she had for him wasn’t going to change that. He didn’t need to make her say it. Before she could speak again, he shrugged and smiled, trying to hide his disappointment. “Hey, it’s no big deal. We can be friends, right?”

  “Right,” she responded, but she still looked uncomfortable.

  He wanted to do something to show her he was still willing to help her fix up her place. “We should get to the hardware store. If we don’t dawdle, we can get your office painted today, and then you’d be able to see patients tomorrow, if you want.”

  Cassie nodded, though she still seemed lost in thought.

  “Let’s take my truck so we can haul the lumber you’ll need for the fence and paddock, too,” he told her.

  Cassie finally seemed to come back around, though her eyes wouldn’t exactly meet his. “That sounds like a great idea. Does your truck have a backseat for the boys?” she asked.

  At least she wasn’t mad at him, he thought with relief. “Yep, plenty of room,” he said.

  “I’ll get the boys ready, then,” she said, half turning away from him, back toward the dim interior of the house.

  Brock looked back to his parents’ house, where his truck shone in the driveway. “I’ll go get my truck and meet you back here in a few minutes.”

  Cassie nodded and disappeared into the house. Brock started down the steps after setting the crowbar out of the way on the porch. With the change of plans, he wouldn’t be using it quite yet, but it didn’t make sense to carry it all the way back when they would need it another day.

  Brock strode quickly back the way he had just come a few minutes before, steering himself toward the driveway this time. He berated himself the whole way. What had he been thinking, kissing her like that?

  Brock knew the answer. He’d been thinking she was interesting and smart and all kinds of sexy. But that didn’t change the fact that he’d known better than to do that. It seemed Cassie wasn’t the only one who was impulsive. She bought a ranch, he kissed women without thinking.

  Well, one woman.

  At least now he knew he didn’t have a shot with her, even if she seemed to feel the same electricity he did. She may have gotten caught in the moment, but the look of instant regret on her face was all he needed to know that it wouldn’t be happening again. If she was still loyal to her husband’s memory, he couldn’t begrudge her that. So they would just be friends.

  Brock hopped in his truck and drove the short stretch of road to Cassie’s house. By the time he got there, she and the boys were bustling down the porch steps.

  As soon as he opened the vehicle door, he could hear the boys chattering excitedly about the prospect of riding in a big cowboy truck. He smiled as they tried to climb in, struggling with the height of the cab.

  “Here,” he said, lacing his fingers together and kneeling down to create an extra step for them.

  Once the boys were in, he looked at Cassie, who was standing there. She was giving him a small smile that he couldn’t interpret. “Thanks for this,” she said to him.

  He wasn’t sure what to say. Would things be too awkward between them now?

  Brock felt a little sheepish. “I want you to know that I’m not a jerk, and I’m sorry if I came off as one earlier.”

  Cassie moved as if she was going to put her hand on his arm, then seemed to rethink it and dropped her arm to her side. “I don’t think that, Brock.”

  God, he wanted to kiss her again. He turned to the truck to get away from her beautiful eyes and realized the boys were crowded with his duffel bags from time on the rodeo circuit. By the time he’d moved the bags into the truck bed, Cassie had already gotten in and closed the door. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful or disappointed that their moment was over.

  * * *

  CASSIE SETTLED INTO the passenger seat of Brock’s car, her heart pounding. She still felt aflutter from the scene at the door, though dissatisfied at the same time. That kiss. Oh my. And then he had asked her out.

  And she’d said no.

  Oh, she wished she could have said yes. She wanted nothing more than to kiss him again, press her body against his. As
she sat beside him in the front seat, she could almost feel the energy between them, hot and thick. She could imagine laughing with him at a restaurant, touching his hand, talking with him as he walked her to her door, kissing him again and again in the country moonlight.

  But her boys jabbering excitedly in the backseat reminded her again that now just wasn’t the time to start dating. They were still so young, and they’d lost their father so recently. She had to be a mother first, a doctor second and a rancher third. Being a single woman was so far down on the list it didn’t even rate a mention.

  “I spoke with my brothers,” Brock said, breaking the silence and dragging her back into the moment. “They’re happy to buy your hay. They wanted to know if they could drop by tomorrow to see it and talk to you about prices.”

  Relief washed through Cassie, both for a safe topic of conversation and the possibility of one big worry to be solved so quickly. “Absolutely. Thanks for calling them,” she responded, not sure what else to say.

  Brock shrugged, though he seemed pleased. “They were planning on visiting anyway, and you’ll be doing them a service, really. Getting a new business off the ground is no easy feat.”

  “What did you say their business was? Selling animals?” She was interested, but mostly she just wanted to keep the conversation light and flowing.

  “Sort of,” he answered. “They own stock—bulls, broncs, a few calves—and they rent them out on the rodeo circuit.”

  Cassie’s eyes widened at the news. She’d never been to a rodeo, but was looking forward to changing that very soon. She was a cowgirl now, after all.

  “I imagine you and your siblings have been to quite a few rodeos, living around here,” she said.

  Brock chuckled. “More than you can imagine. Amy, my sister, rode in the junior rodeo. She only gave it up when she became a journalist and started traveling the world.”

  “And you?” she prompted.

  He had said he was on the circuit when the boys asked what his job was, and again during the recent scene on the porch that she was trying to forget. She wasn’t positive, but she thought she’d heard that phrase in connection to rodeos.

  “I ride bulls on the circuit. I travel around from one rodeo to the next and compete,” he explained, his eyes on the road.

  Cassie hadn’t expected that. She was aware of the fact that some people out there hopped on the back of giant twisting animals for a living, but she’d never actually met one.

  She tried to focus on the danger of it, to remind herself to keep her distance from this man.

  But she could just imagine him, using every one of his very noticeable muscles as he defeated a crazed bull in a battle of strength and wills. The picture sent a thrill through her.

  Cassie shook her head slightly at her own silly imagination. If they were going to be friends, she would need to avoid picturing him in that romantic way. Or maybe theirs would need to be a very distant friendship. Just close enough to work together on her house and barn. After that, it would probably be best if they didn’t see each other much. Like a mantra, she repeated the important things: children, patients and horses.

  Horses. “Oh, shoot,” she said aloud, “we were planning to go and visit our horses tomorrow morning. Will your brothers be able to come in the afternoon?”

  Brock nodded. “That should be fine.” Then he added. “Since we’re getting the lumber today, I can work on the paddock while you’re out, if that’s okay.”

  She melted a little. Even though she’d turned him down, he was still willing to work so hard to help her.

  She had spent years married to someone selfish, and now she’d finally found a nice man she couldn’t have. Thanks, Destiny.

  “That would be wonderful,” she said. Before she could think things through, she blurted out, “Unless you want to come with us?”

  She wanted to slap her forehead. Why was she putting herself into these situations? She should be spending less time with him, not more!

  But it was too late now. Her impulsiveness had gotten the better of her once again, so she might as well go all in. “I don’t know much about horses and would appreciate having them looked over by someone with a practiced eye,” she said.

  He gave her a little smile that wiped away the nagging voices inside her. She knew exactly why she asked him to come—she couldn’t help but want to be around him.

  “Can’t say no to spending some time around horses,” he answered.

  Cassie spent the rest of the drive amazed at the human capacity for conflicting emotions.

  Finally, they reached the hardware store, to Cassie’s relief. The large building was a reminder that she had more important things to do than fight herself over Brock. They all climbed out of the truck and headed inside.

  Now she could think about those other things: paint for her doctor’s office, lumber for her fences, and plenty of other items she didn’t even know she needed. Even the worries at the cost of it all seemed preferable to thinking about Brock.

  Zach and Carter looked around them at the large store, and Cassie could see their fingers itching to touch everything they could reach, the more dangerous the better. “How about we go pick out paint?” she asked. When they seemed disappointed, she added, “You two can paint your room any color you can both agree on.”

  With that, they were hopping excitedly toward the paint swatches, already arguing about what color to choose. Cassie followed them, feeling Brock beside her, but not looking at him. “You’re really going to let them pick any color they want?” Brock asked, sounding amazed.

  Cassie nodded, keeping her eyes trained on her sons. “They’ll have a hard time agreeing, and Zach will keep Carter from choosing something too crazy. He won’t want anything too bright.”

  At least she could feel confident about one aspect of her life right now. She knew her boys.

  They walked through the store, looking like a happy family on an outing, Cassie knew. She tried to brush the idea away. This was time for work. She turned her mind, instead, to choosing exactly the right color for her office.

  Cassie followed the boys into the paint section and felt immediately overwhelmed at the number of choices. Giant sections of hundreds of colors surrounded her, each section a different name brand. She didn’t even know where to start, and the only name she recognized was some of the brands boasted ultra-expensive collections.

  Beside her, Brock pointed out a name she didn’t recognize. “I suggest getting one of these ones. They make good paint at a decent price. We can find the right one to spruce up the fencing and keep it water-tight here, too.”

  With her choices narrowed to a much more manageable hundred-or-so options, Cassie followed Brock and started pulling out paint cards to consider. Soon she had a dozen or more in her hands, from periwinkle to sky blue to mocha to gentle fawn. She could hear Zach and Carter arguing over colors, and she could see Brock out of the corner of her eye considering which dark brown would match best, but she was mostly, blessedly, absorbed in the choices in front of her.

  “Hmm. Tough choice,” Brock said, sidling so close to her that she could smell his cologne or aftershave or whatever it was that made him smell so darn good.

  Damn. Her mind was now 100 percent on him, her libido firing up and demanding action, the memory of them on the porch only compounding the problem. She forced herself to stay still, her eyes on the colors in front of her, even though she was no longer really seeing them.

  As if Brock could feel the intensity of her desire, he stepped back a little and cleared his throat.

  Cassie kept her eyes on the squares of color, purposely avoiding looking at him. “I’m just not sure what would be best.”

  Brock leaned back for a second, putting his hand on his chin as he considered. Then he leaned forward and plucked out two of the colors: a buttery yellow and a bold blue. As he did so, his f
ingers grazed hers, and she pulled back as if singed and looked up at him, the absolute wrong thing to do, she realized. The dark blue of his eyes threatened to suck her in.

  He held up the colors he’d chosen as if they were a type of protection from her, and she reined in her thoughts, turning her attention to the swatches.

  “I think either of these would go particularly well with the furniture,” he said, his voice sounding strained. “But any of the colors you picked would be fine, honestly.”

  She had to agree with him. After a quick inner debate, she chose the blue. “The yellow reminds me too much of a nursery,” she explained, not mentioning that the blue reminded her of his entrancing eyes.

  Brock didn’t respond, and when she saw how awkward he’d become once again, she scolded herself for bringing up babies with a man who didn’t particularly like children.

  It didn’t stop her from picturing him in a butter-yellow nursery, holding a little baby in his arms, though. She gave herself a little shake and spoke, hoping to clear the air. “Did you find something for the fence?”

  He held up the brown swatch and she smiled. It might not have been too exciting for some people, but it was the color a fence and paddock on a working ranch should be, and that made her happy. They brought the colors up to the paint-mixer and placed the orders. When they finished, Brock said, “You should also think about what color you want the barn to be. You’ll need to repaint the whole thing at some point.”

  He didn’t have to say that it would need to wait until after he was gone. There simply wasn’t time while he was in town to get that done on top of everything else. The thought made her sad, but she tried to ignore it. “Hmm... I might go for a white barn,” she said, picturing the beautiful white against the deep greens and browns of the surrounding landscape.

  Brock nodded. “It would be a pain to keep looking bright, but white barns are nice,” he said.