Tough Luck Cowboy

by A. J. Pine

  She crossed her arms and scoffed. “You put yourself in danger of damaging the goods every time someone’s not looking.”

  He reached for the hat on his head and transferred it to hers instead.

  “How about a small gift to buy your silence?” His brows pulled together.

  “What?” she asked, her voice as unsteady as her legs.

  His jaw tightened, and the stubble on his chin shone gold in the late morning sun.

  “That hat,” he said, his tone unreadable. “It—suits you.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. “Um…okay? I mean, thanks for the gift.”

  He was still holding Ace’s reins, but the horse seemed to pay them no attention, as he was more concerned with the trough of water up against the arena fence than with anything they were talking about.

  “It also makes me want to kiss you,” he said without warning, and in a strange moment of boldness, she answered him back.

  “Then what are you waiting for?” she asked. “I’ve got a mile-long list of what I need to do today. I suggest you get to it.”

  So he kissed her, his mouth firm and insistent, and she parted her lips so he could taste his fill.

  And for the first time in the history of Lily Green’s planned-out life, she ignored whatever was on that to-do list and made a new one that had only a single bullet point—Luke Everett.

  The ride to her place, while only about twelve miles, was wrought with more tension than waiting for a soufflé to rise. After that kiss—good Lord, that kiss—Luke hadn’t said another word…at least to her.

  He’d had a full-on conversation with Ace, the lovely horse who hadn’t killed her, as he led the Appaloosa back to the stable and into his stall. But to Lily, there had been no more words—not even a request for her to return his hat as he squinted into the sun the entire drive back. And she? Well, she could have broken the silence, but with what?

  He stopped in her driveway, but he didn’t kill the engine. And Lily had finally had enough.

  “What?” She threw her hands in the air. “What now? Because I get that what happened this morning with losing Gertie was hard, but it’s part of the job, right? And—and you looked like you were having fun out there today with Ace.” She groaned. “No,” she said, more to herself than to him. “I’m owning this.” Then her eyes bore into him again, regardless of him staring straight out the windshield. “We had fun out there today. Maybe I didn’t master the whole riding thing like I’d anticipated, but I enjoyed myself, Luke. I enjoyed myself with you. So tell me what the hell has you shutting down now?”

  He let his head thud against the back of the seat. But he didn’t turn her way, didn’t look at her.

  “Can you at least acknowledge that we are good together in more ways than one?” she asked.

  He sighed and closed his eyes, so Lily threw open the car door. “You’re impossible, you know? All I want is something genuine from you, Luke. When you’re ready for that, please let me know.”

  She stormed out of the truck and up the walkway to her front porch. Then she marched straight through to the kitchen where she grabbed her gloves and then continued out the back door. That’s where he found her, several minutes later, knees in the dirt with three ripe tomatoes in her lap.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at her.

  She gave him a cursory glance, then went back to work. “I think it’s more than obvious,” she said. “But if you need me to spell it out for you, I’m gardening.”

  He didn’t respond. He’d followed her back here, which meant he wanted to give her an explanation, right? Yet he just stood there, waiting, his silence more maddening than if he’d just answered her tirade with one of his own. Of course she ignored the voice inside that told her to keep gardening, that told her not to react to this man who’d always driven her mad—mainly because he was such a jerk. But these days he was driving her crazy for entirely different reasons.

  She sighed and looked up.

  “Why do you always look at me like that?” she asked when she saw his clenched jaw and his piercing blue eyes. “I get the whole oil-and-water thing and that we don’t get along, but Jesus, Luke. I can’t piss you off that much. Not when we can have a night like we did last night and a day like today. It makes no sense, especially when I don’t even know what the hell I did.” She let the tomatoes tumble into the dirt, careful not to bruise them, and stood to face him. “So either say something or go. Because I don’t have the energy for you right now.”

  He took a step toward her, but she retreated, shaking her head.

  “This isn’t the farmers market, or me having a breakdown about almost killing Tucker’s fiancée, or you being all cowboy in shining armor on that horse. You don’t just get to kiss me to shut me up.”

  The words flew out of her even as she silently begged him to kiss her anyway. Because as much as she knew this thing between them was only physical, she couldn’t help wanting to slip past those concrete barriers Luke put up between himself and the rest of the world. Even if it was only for the briefest moment, she wanted to be able to communicate through more than just the heat refusing to simmer between them.

  “Christ, Lily,” he growled, then ran a hand through his blond hair. “What the hell do you want from me? I thought I was your rebound. This wasn’t supposed to mean anything.”

  She scoffed out a laugh. Because the truth was, he was right. This wasn’t supposed to mean anything, but somehow, against her will, it did. She had no idea what she wanted from him, only that it had to be more than this.

  “I want you to admit that whatever this was or wasn’t supposed to be, it’s taken on a life of its own. I mean, we haven’t even fought since last night when you threatened to call Sheriff Hawkins on me. Not that I believe you were truly angry. Frustrated, maybe. But not angry.”

  He grunted. “You do frustrate me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I mean, thanks for the words instead of trying to solve whatever’s going on with just sex.” He raised his brows. “Okay, I didn’t mean to insinuate that sex between us was just sex because yes. It was good. Real goddamn good. But you’re missing the point.”

  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, but he made no motion to move closer to her again. And though the air outside was clear and crisp, the space between them was thick with a tension she didn’t recognize. This was different from all the times before, because she was stepping beyond the boundaries they’d set for themselves and each other. Maybe he was a rebound, but it felt like more. And maybe he did shy away from permanence, but he wasn’t exactly shying away from her today.

  “What’s the point, then, sweetheart?” he asked, but there was no mocking in his tone.

  “Why did you come over yesterday, after the hospital?” she asked, dipping her toe into the shallow part of the ocean between them.

  He stood firm, boots planted in the dirt. “Because Jack and Ava would have had my ass if I didn’t make sure you were okay. I can handle my brother,” he said with a half grin. “But I sure as shit ain’t crossing my almost sister.”

  She knew he was trying to make light, but her heart squeezed at the way he referred to Ava as his sister. He wasn’t kidding when he spoke about family and permanency. And that one little statement was enough to show her how fierce his loyalty was.

  “Why’d you stay?” She waded in deeper, forcing her voice to stay even. “Was it just in the hopes of having sex with me?”

  “Jesus, Lily,” he said under his breath, but she had both feet in now. What difference did it make to go further?

  “You can just answer yes or no,” she said. “That would be enough.”

  The muscle in his jaw ticked, but he answered. “No.”

  “Why take me with you this morning—and spend the day with me—if all you were going to do was continue this silly dance? This blowing hot and cold whenever it suits you?”

  He shook his head and let ou
t a bitter laugh. “I thought you said yes or no would be enough.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “It was…for that question. But the way I see it, Luke, you’re looking for reasons to keep your distance. And I get that the whole Tucker thing is weird and that this rodeo coming up is a big deal and that you don’t do permanent.” She laughed. “And I know what I said about this being a rebound. Is there another way to define it? Because I haven’t been with anyone since…” She shook her head. “That’s not the point either. The point is, I got jerked around once already, by the guy who was supposed to be the safe, reliable choice. So—so, either be honest about what you want or don’t want from me, or let’s just go back to whatever we were before. No hard feelings. Okay?”

  She rested her hands on her hips, held her breath, and waited for his response. Because no matter what came next, she’d just let the tide carry her away. Either he’d pull her back to shore, or she’d be a goner.

  He stood there, unreadable, for longer than she could keep from breathing. Finally he nodded toward her hands.

  “Can you at least take off those ridiculous gloves? I feel like I’m talking to goddamn Mickey Mouse.”

  Lily glanced down and saw she was still wearing her white gardening gloves, the ones with the puffy cuffs, and she couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing.

  She peeled off one glove and then the next. After that she chucked each one, playfully, at Luke’s chest.

  He caught them both, dropped them to the ground, and then finally took that step to close the distance between them.

  This time, she did not retreat.

  He wasn’t touching her, but he was close. So close that the air warmed between them when he spoke.

  “I came by yesterday because Ava told me to—because she said you wouldn’t open the door for Jack, and that it wasn’t like you to retreat like that. I stayed because you asked me to…and because once I saw how upset you were…maybe I didn’t want you to be alone.”

  He took a long, steadying breath, and Lily readied herself for the letdown, for the reason why he couldn’t stay now.

  “And I asked you to come with me riding today because I wasn’t prepared for how hard the situation this morning hit me. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t do unsettled.”

  She snorted. “Unless I’m the one unsettling you.” But then she threw a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make light—”

  He pulled her hand away, then snaked his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, his thumb brushing over her parted lips.

  “You’re right,” he said. “The oil-and-water thing is bullshit. At least, it is now.” He urged her closer to him, dipping his head so they were millimeters apart. “I asked you to come with me today because something about being around you after what happened settled me. And selfish prick that I am, I wanted more of that.”

  She licked her bottom lip. “Was that so hard to say?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Very.”

  “I already told you,” she said. “I’m not looking to jump into anything either. But I’m also not looking for you seeming interested one minute and totally detached the next.”

  Because as perfect as they might have looked on the outside, that was exactly what she and Tucker were beneath the surface. Detached. And neither was willing to admit it. Maybe for Tucker it was simply about pride. But Lily knew why she swept her unhappiness under the rug—and why she was willing to do the same as far as keeping Tucker’s infidelity a secret.

  He hadn’t loved her enough to stay. She was a hypocrite to even think it because she’d been more in love with the idea of the life she and Tucker could have had than with the man himself. She was far from innocent in the emotional breakdown of their marriage, and she owned that.

  That was why she couldn’t bear to watch Luke shut down like she had. Shutting down meant he was pulling away—detaching himself from the situation when it was too late for her. For better or worse, the attachment was there, and she couldn’t turn it off. What did it mean if Luke could?

  “You’re right,” he whispered. “You deserve more than that.”

  His blue eyes darkened with something she knew was still left unsaid.

  “Then…I want more,” she admitted. “Not forever. Just—more.”

  His lips brushed against hers, not a purposeful kiss but something that told her he was considering her request.

  “More,” he said, his voice rough, and she swallowed hard. “Count me in, sweetheart.”

  She raised herself up on her toes and sealed the deal, pressing her mouth to his.

  This kiss wasn’t like any of the others—not like anything they had shared last night. He was slow as he carefully explored her lips with his, as his fingertips traced the outline of her face, causing goose bumps to pepper her skin.

  “No more shutting down,” she said against his mouth. “All I need from you is the truth. No matter what it is. But if you shut down again like you did today, then I’m out. Okay?”

  He nodded but kept kissing her, lips moving to her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. Her whole body tingled. She loved how well he seemed to know her physically, but she knew to really get past those walls of his, she’d have to part with one or two of her own.

  She cleared her throat. “You said that I settled you.” He nodded. “Well, then I guess you…unwind me.” She smiled. “I’ve lived a long time in fear of losing what’s important to me. With you I can somehow be scared but still feel safe. Does that make sense?” she asked, hoping he’d give her a small piece of him as well.

  “You don’t want to know those other parts of me,” he said, as if reading her mind.

  “How do you know if you don’t give me a chance?” she asked. “I’m not asking for everything. Just some small bit of good faith that shows me that whatever this is—for now—that it’s…more.”

  He blew out a breath and swallowed. He dipped his gaze toward the ground, then back at her, and she could already feel the pain in the words that hadn’t yet come.

  “I don’t know how much Tucker told you about me and my brothers. I’m guessing not much, which is how I like things. I like people knowing the me I show them—not the me that made me who I am.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t get it. You’re not making any sense.”

  “Our mama died young, and Jack Senior—our father—never recovered. He drank. And he blamed us, somehow. For still being alive? I don’t know. What I do know is that the drinking changed him. And he started taking it out on Jack. Before long Jack would provoke him, just to keep him from laying a hand on me or Walker.”

  “Oh, Luke…” She reached a hand for his face, but he backed away.

  “I don’t deserve your sympathy. That’s not why I’m telling you this. Walker and I—we let Jack protect us, and he almost got himself killed because of it. So if it looks to you like I don’t take my life seriously, just know that you’re way off there. I live by my terms. If I break a bone or bleed—it’s because I allowed it to happen. I call the shots, even if that means taking risks. Now you know why.”

  Her heart broke for the man she’d always thought cared about nothing other than having a good time.

  “You deserve a lot more than you give yourself credit for,” was all she said. Then she pulled him close, kissed him, and whispered in his ear. “Now take me inside and let me cook you dinner.”

  His eyes widened. “Let you—you want to cook for me?”

  She nodded.

  “But it’s, like, three o’clock.”

  She laughed. “I’m not going to just throw something in the microwave, Luke Everett. I’m a professionally trained chef. I don’t even own a microwave.” She raised her brows.

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Fine, I do, but I’ve made my point. I’m sure you can find something to keep you busy while I prepare something special for you.”

  He grinned at this, the guilt in his eyes melting away to be replaced by something
playful and wicked.

  She knew what she’d done—allowing him to close the door he’d just opened. But she also knew he couldn’t take back what he’d shared, and even if she wasn’t able to put words to whatever this thing was between them, she’d show him that he deserved someone who cared—that he was worthy of more than he was willing to recognize.

  So she threaded her fingers through his and led him back to where they’d found themselves that morning, the one place where Lily felt truly herself.

  The kitchen.

  Chapter Fourteen

  He’d thought she was going to lead him to the bedroom. That would have been a great way to keep him busy for a while. After all, that was how they communicated best, and after the bomb he’d unwittingly dropped—telling her about his father—he was counting on not having to say much more tonight.

  Instead she’d handed him a beer and told him to go relax. But he wanted to watch her work.

  What he wasn’t counting on was how goddamn sexy she was when she cooked. Or how out of his element he was watching someone go to that much effort for him.

  “What can I do to help?” he asked, too restless to simply sit or stand.

  She handed him the bottle of zinfandel. “Here. Open this.”

  He did as he was told, watching with quiet appreciation as she chopped carrots and onions, readied the cuts of chicken, and pulled from the fridge what looked like homemade tomato sauce.

  He handed her the opened bottle when she had a free hand.

  “Is anything in this place store-bought?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Everything tastes better when it’s homemade,” she said. She poured herself a glass of wine, then dumped the better contents of the bottle into a glass bowl with other various ingredients. “Even this,” she said, holding up her glass. “When you and your brothers sip that first vintage that you’ll have created with your own bare hands, you’ll see what I mean.”

  She clinked her glass against his bottle, and they both took a sip.

  He leaned against the counter. “What, exactly, are you preparing for us tonight, sweetheart?”