I didn’t wait for a response before I shoved the back door open and rushed across the porch and down the back steps.
I power-walked across the neatly trimmed grass, the bright morning sun making me squint as I cast several looks behind me to make sure no one was following. At the edge of the trees, I slowed down. I walked the narrow paths for a while aimlessly, not really able to put my thoughts into any kind of coherent order. By the time I realized my feet had carried me to the stables, I still hadn’t figured out what I was going to do.
I leaned on the wall next to the wide back entrance and pulled out my cigarettes, lighting one up and taking a long drag. The smoke burned my lungs, but it gave me something other than my fractured feelings and thoughts to focus on.
One of the stablehands came around the corner carrying a bucket and stopped dead in his tracks. His wide eyes zeroed in on my cigarette.
“Not a fucking word to anyone.” I pointed at him with the fingers holding the cigarette and gave him the “don’t fuck with me” look I used on rowdy drunks.
The young man nodded rapidly before rushing inside.
I finished my cigarette and lit my last one. I’d cut down so much in the past few weeks that the two smokes were making me a little dizzy. I welcomed the feeling—another thing to focus on other than my rising panic and this churning in the pit of my stomach.
“God dammit. I thought I told you assholes you couldn’t smoke back here.” A deep angry voice made me push off the wall.
Jack came marching out of the stables, then froze when he saw me. “Oh, it’s you. Sorry. Didn’t mean to yell.” He pulled his cowboy hat off and scratched his head, giving me a wide smile.
“That’s OK. I didn’t realize I wasn’t supposed to smoke here. Sorry.” That explained the hint of fear in the young man’s eyes.
“It’s all right.” He shrugged, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “You didn’t know. This is a popular spot for the guys to take their breaks. Gets shade in the afternoon. But I had to ban them from smoking. It’s just too dangerous this close to all that hay.”
I finished my cigarette and nodded as I blew out the last of the smoke, making sure to put the butt out properly.
“So you just come down here to smoke?”
“No. I don’t know. I’ve been trying to quit.” I wandered into the stables, and Jack fell into step beside me. He kept eyeing me as if he wanted to ask questions, but something in my eyes must’ve told him I didn’t want to talk.
I went over to Honeymustard and gave her a pat. The palomino Morab leaned into my touch, the affectionate gesture taking some of the weight off my chest.
Jack floated between paperwork in the back office and more practical things in the stables while ordering the other staff around. He showed me how to brush the horse, and I busied myself with the task as he chatted about mundane things.
As I finished with the brushing, the horse’s coat glistened, resembling spun gold even more now that she was free of dust.
I looked around and realized it was just Jack and me in the stables.
Dropping the brush, I dusted my hands off and leaned against the stall door, watching Jack put away a saddle and tidy up some of the items on the wall next to it.
He turned to face me and glanced around, noticing the same thing I had. “Guess it’s just you and me.” He gave me the same crooked grin that, when I first got here, made me wish we’d met under different circumstances.
I was glad for the distraction of the past few hours, but I realized I didn’t want to talk to Jack. I didn’t want to be around him; I didn’t think I wanted to be around anyone. The walk had helped get some of my nervous energy out, the cigarettes had made me feel like myself again, and focusing on the task of brushing Honeymustard had given me space to think.
I needed to get back to the house, call Alex, and tell her we needed to swap back. It was less than a week before the agreed-upon time; maybe she would be generous and agree to still give me part of the money. I just hoped I could get out before seeing Oren again. I seriously doubted I’d be able to walk away from him if I had to look into his tortured eyes one more time.
“I know why you came out here.” Jack swaggered over and came to a stop right in front of me.
“You do?” I folded my hands behind my back and leaned on them, hoping to look casual. But he looked so confident, his smile kind of teasing, that alarm bells started to go off in the back of my head. Had he figured out my secrets? Did I let something slip in my emotional state? Was I busted just as I’d decided to pull the plug?
“Yeah.” He propped one hand on the wall next to my head. “I know we shouldn’t . . . Look, I can’t keep denying this thing between us either.”
“What?” I frowned. Relief flooded through me—I hadn’t fucked up and accidentally given away the secret. But the relief was quickly chased away by dread. The intense look in his eyes clearly indicated he thought I was more into him than I actually was.
“I see the way you look at me.” His other hand went to my hip. “I can’t keep my eyes off you either. The way you ride a horse, I can’t help imagining what you’ll look like buck naked ridin’ me.”
His eyes raked up and down my body as he leaned in, as if he was trying to decide which piece of clothing to remove first.
I finally broke out of my shock and placed my hands firmly on his chest. “Jack, no.”
I pushed, but he didn’t budge. Instead he pressed his hips forward and jammed his knee between my legs. His erection dug into my belly. “I know you feel like you got to say that. Because of your fiancé.” His voice was low, gravelly with lust—something that usually turned me on like crazy—but I just didn’t want to hear it. Not from him. He just wasn’t getting the message. “But it’s OK. I know you want me. I want you. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but I know something ain’t right. You look worried and on edge half the time. He doesn’t have to know. I’ll make you feel better. Today and any day you want.”
“Jack, I said no. Back the fuck off.” I bucked my hips while shoving against his chest. He had a hundred pounds on me, strong muscles toughened by daily physical work, but my sudden jerking movement took him by surprise, and he stumbled back a step.
“Come on.” This time his growl had a bite of anger to it, his hands curling into fists. “You can’t spend weeks fucking teasing me like that and then not follow through. I know you want me. What’s the goddamn problem?”
I glanced to either side of me and grabbed the first thing my eyes landed on—some kind of heavy, long metal thing. I had no idea what it was, but its weight felt good in the palm of my hand. “I said no, motherfucker. I don’t care how much you think I flirted with you. That doesn’t give you the right to just take something that’s not yours. Come at me again. I fucking dare you.”
I gave him a wide grin, letting a crazy glint into my eyes. I’d never let any asshole take advantage of me, and there were plenty of them at the Cottonmouth. I’d knock his teeth out before he had a chance to lay another hand on me.
Jack narrowed his eyes but smiled, the look pure menace. He started unbuckling his belt and took a step forward. I tightened my grip on my weapon.
“You fucking spoiled rich bitch. I’m gonna get what—”
Oren appeared out of nowhere, landing a right hook to Jack’s jaw. His punch had momentum behind it, and the stable master ended up on his ass.
Jack recovered fairly quickly and lifted himself onto his elbows to stare at us, more than a little fear in his wide eyes.
“You have twenty minutes to pack your personal belongings and get off my property. Your services are no longer required.” Oren’s voice was menacingly low, but it didn’t waver. His back looked rock hard with tension as he put himself between me and my would-be attacker, towering over the other man.
Jack didn’t utter another word. He scrambled backward, got to his feet, and rushed away, giving us another sneer only when he was a safe distan
ce away.
I lowered the weapon to my side as Oren turned to face me.
“Are you all right?” He shook his hand out and took a step toward me, his gaze searching my body for injuries.
“I was handling that asshole. You didn’t need to swoop in and . . .” I gestured at the spot where Jack had fallen.
“I know.” Oren sighed. “You can take care of yourself in every single way. I wasn’t trying to patronize you. I was just trying to be there for you. I saw a man attacking my fiancée, and I defended her. Fucking sue me.” His hands flopped to his sides. A bit of exasperation had leaked into his voice, but his gaze was still full of concern.
I released my grip on my makeshift weapon, and it clattered to the ground. I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around Oren’s waist. He didn’t hesitate for a second. Even after the way I’d pushed him away, he immediately folded his arms around me and held me to his chest, one hand at the back of my head.
Oren Charles Winthrop was a good man, and I didn’t deserve him.
“I know you’re independent.” His words reverberated through his chest, and I felt them on my cheek as I pressed closer and breathed him in. “I know you don’t need me to take care of you. We’re the same in that regard. But is it so wrong to want to be there for each other? That’s all I want, Alex. I just want to give us a chance. I know we’re getting married because we need to, but why can’t we explore an actual relationship because we want to? I haven’t felt like this about someone in a long time. Call me crazy, but I think that’s a good thing in our situation.”
I didn’t know what to say, couldn’t get any words past the lump in my throat anyway. I could take care of myself, but the thought of having someone who wanted to be there for me was really damn nice.
This was exactly why I’d wanted to get out before I saw him again. He made me want to hold on and never let go.
Rushed footsteps came from the doorway, and then one of the staff from the house rounded the corner, looking harried.
“Oh, I’m so sorry to interrupt.” The young woman took a small step back but didn’t leave. “It’s just that you’re both needed up at the house. Mrs. Caroline sent me to find you.”
“Jessie, what’s happened?” Oren kept one arm around my shoulders as we separated and faced the woman.
“Oh no, it’s nothing bad,” she rushed to explain. “It’s just that there’s a visitor. And it was supposed to be a surprise. But she’s here, and you weren’t at the house. I’m sorry, I’m not supposed to say anything—just get you to come back.” She gave us an apologetic look and rushed off, probably to avoid further questions.
We exchanged a confused glance and started back up to the house.
Twenty-Two
Alex
I winced as I unloaded the last of the glasses from the dishwasher tray. My back was still stiff from the incident the night before.
Andre looked up and frowned before plopping the mop back into the bucket and marching over to me.
“I’m fine. Just a little sore,” I insisted. He’d left the floors half-done.
“Whatever,” he grumbled as he faced me toward the bar with an insistent grip on my shoulders. “Maybe if you’d rested like I told you to, you wouldn’t be wincing in pain, and I wouldn’t be forced to listen to this crap.”
I sighed as his strong hands kneaded some of the tension from my shoulders while the Backstreet Boys crooned about the shape of their heart.
The bouncers had booted about a quarter of the patrons by the time we’d made it back downstairs the night before. With the extra help from Ren, who wasn’t precious about bussing tables like I thought he would be, we’d closed up within an hour.
The police showed up just as I was insisting I was fine and that Andre and Ren didn’t need to babysit me for the night. Andre answered their questions about the drugs he suspected were being dealt in his bar as I slipped upstairs.
After another shower, I peeked out the open balcony doors. The police were gone, and the street was empty. There was no missing the two men locked in an embrace in the halo of a streetlight.
Andre and Ren held each other close as they kissed, and I couldn’t seem to look away. I was as mesmerized as I’d been that first time I saw them. There was something irresistible about the intimacy, the heat, the two sets of strong muscles moving against one another.
They pulled apart and spoke for a few moments, and then Ren walked away. I turned out my light and, a few minutes later, heard Andre come past my door.
That morning I’d come down to the bar to help him clean up. He’d refused at first, threatening to carry me upstairs, but I’d fiddled with the fancy sound system until I managed to put my boy bands playlist on and started wiping down the bar, ignoring him completely.
“What the actual fuck are you two listening to?” A bright ray of afternoon sun beamed across the bar when Ren opened the door and let himself in.
“Nineties classics.” I grinned, then moaned when Andre hit a tight knot in my shoulder.
Ren looked at me incredulously and then turned wide eyes to Andre. I felt him shrug behind me.
“Fucking whipped,” Ren muttered under his breath. He was in ripped jeans and a light gray T-shirt with a deep V that allowed his ink to peek out, his brown hair messy on top of his head. “You still sore from last night?” He made himself comfortable on a stool across from us.
“Yeah, but it’s loosening up.” I rolled my head to give Andre better access.
Ren tipped his in the same direction and smirked. “Know what else helps you loosen up?” He lifted a little ziplock bag containing several wads of dark green stuff.
“Is that marijuana?” I bugged my eyes out, and he cracked up laughing.
The door opened again, and Loretta walked in, coughing up a lung. We all cringed at the mucousy sound.
“Take that shit upstairs.” She waved us off, heading straight for the kitchen. “The staff will be here soon.”
“You are staff,” Ren called after her, and Andre leaned across the bar to smack him on the shoulder.
“She’s family.” He wagged a finger in Ren’s face. “And she’s right. Let’s go upstairs.”
Tonight wasn’t expected to be as busy, so neither Andre nor I was working. Ren took the lead up the stairs, and Andre took my hand and tugged me along behind him.
“Set up on the balcony.” Andre waved Ren on ahead. “I’ll make us some iced tea.”
He waited until Ren was outside before turning to me and lowering his voice. “You can bail if you want. Just because Toni’s done every drug under the sun doesn’t mean you have to.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s just a bit of weed. I went to college. I’ve been high before.”
He smirked and nodded but didn’t say anything else as he moved away.
I’d tried weed a handful of times, though certainly not in the past decade. But what was the worst that could happen? I was supposed to be embracing fun experiences.
By the time Andre brought out a tall pitcher of iced tea, Ren already had two joints rolled and was working on the third, his dexterous fingers tucking the finely chopped stuff into the delicate paper.
Ren lit the tip of the first joint, inhaled deeply, and passed it to Andre, who did the same and then passed it to me. The pungent aroma surrounded me, the smoke momentarily obscuring the rich colors of the sunset.
I brought the joint to my lips and puffed, like Chad, my college boyfriend, had shown me. The smoke burned my lungs. I only managed to hold it for a few seconds, but I also managed to hold back the cough threatening to burst through.
Andre poured the tea. It was sweet and refreshing. We sat around and smoked as the sun set and the ornate streetlights flicked on below. The music from the bar drifted up faintly, and we chatted about nothing, lapsing into silence now and then.
Bit by bit, my muscles did relax, and I melted into the chair, slouching. The thought of how my mother would look if she saw how I was sitting, my
T-shirt dress riding up dangerously close to my crotch, made me giggle.
“Shit. She’s a giggler?” Ren took another puff. “I would’ve thought she was the paranoid type, for sure.”
“That’s a funny word. Giggler.” Andre’s voice was even huskier than usual, his stare fixed on the twinkling lights of the city.
“How do you do it?” I rolled my head to stare at Ren. There was just enough light from a lamp inside to see by.
He gave me a questioning frown.
“How do you live the life you live, considering where you come from?” I tried to explain, but my brain was a little slow, the filter between it and my mouth apparently a little thin. I made a mental note to say no to the next joint. I couldn’t afford to accidentally let something slip.
“How’s the rich boy surviving slumming it with the commoners, you mean?” He had that look on his face, the one he wore when he antagonized me and called me a bitch.
“No, that’s not what I meant. I saw what your parents are like . . .”
“Ah. You mean how do I defy them and everything that was expected of me growing up?” He relaxed again.
“Exactly.”
He shrugged. “I stopped giving a shit. It wasn’t easy, but eventually I realized it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. If I couldn’t live my life how I wanted to, it wasn’t worth living. If I can’t be what I was born to be, what’s the fucking point of it all?”
“A musician.” I nodded.
“You think I was born to be a musician? You think I’m that good?” There was a hint of surprise in his voice.
I rolled my eyes. “Anyone with half a brain cell knows as soon as they hear you play that you were born for it.”
“Man, you know you’re good. Quit fishin’,” Andre piped in, and my brain jumped to another question my filter failed to hold back.
Just Be Her Page 23