Tough Luck Cowboy

by A. J. Pine

  He waited for her to respond, for some sign that she was with him, because maybe it was time he just put it all out there, all his fucking cards on the table.

  But when she inhaled with a sweet snore, he huffed out a nervous laugh, and he lost his nerve. He couldn’t lay it all out there if she couldn’t even hear him. He was at least a better man than that. But he could tell her enough—admit to himself how he knew this would all go down.

  He tucked her hair behind her ear, felt the warmth of her breath against his chest. He spoke just above a whisper.

  “I want permanence in my life, Lily. I want it with you. But I don’t deserve what happened tonight. I don’t deserve what you’re willing to give me, not when there’s something else I need to do first. I need to come clean—to Tucker. To you. In that order. And if he doesn’t kick my ass first, well, then you get to do the honors. But right now the weight of it is driving me goddamn crazy.”

  This was why it was torture being benched. There was nowhere to go—nothing he could do to keep his shit together if he wasn’t on the back of a horse.

  He checked his phone on the nightstand. It was barely ten o’clock. Someone would be up and around the Callahan place. They never let their old man spend a night alone. And Ace could always use a little workout.

  He slid out from under her, making sure he slipped the pillow beneath her head before it hit the mattress.

  She barely stirred.

  He threw on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, stepped into his boots, and kissed her warm cheek.

  “Back in a bit, sweetheart. I gotta go see a man about a horse.”

  He laughed at his own joke, then strode out of the room and straight through the front door to his truck.

  One quick ride was all he needed to get back in control. Tucker would be back next week. He’d tell Tucker about him and Lily, and then he’d tell Lily everything—that he’d been such an ass all these years to serve his own selfish needs. Because how do you watch the only woman you’ve ever loved fall for another man and make it out alive?

  He didn’t have the answer. He was so close to what he’d always wanted, but he’d gotten here by lying to the people he loved most.

  He needed to work off a little steam, clear his head.

  He pressed a hand to his side, his ribs still tender to the touch, but they were healing. He was healing, which meant he could push himself tonight. He still needed at least a week to get on the back of a training bull, even though he knew that was cutting it close. He was ready to ride tonight, and he’d be ready for what lay ahead soon.

  He idled out of the driveway, not really hitting the gas until he was a good distance from the house. Lily should sleep. He could work this all out and get back before she even knew he was gone.

  It wasn’t until he saw the sign on the truck that read Callahan Brothers Contracting that he reached for his phone in the cup holder and realized it wasn’t there.

  “Shit,” he hissed, then threw his head against the back of his seat.

  Just one quick ride. She was out like a light. And if he didn’t get whatever was building up out, he was going to explode. There were no two ways about it.

  One ride tonight—and then eight little seconds a week from now.

  He’d prove that he could take it—prove that he was worth it.

  That he was worthy of whatever she felt for him.

  Or he’d crash and burn. Whichever came first.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lily opened her eyes as soon as she heard the truck pull away. It was only then that she allowed herself to gasp for a much needed breath of air, yet it did nothing to clear her thoughts.

  I don’t know how to do this.

  I could fall all the way for you.

  He could fall for her? He damn well better have been falling because what the hell was she doing?

  But there he’d gone, getting all cryptic on her when she knew there was something holding him back. Why make love to her like that? Why tell her he wanted to try permanent when deep down he thought he wasn’t capable?

  At least that’s what it had sounded like.

  She was pacing now, wrapped in Luke’s bedsheet. She should have let him know she was awake and made him say what he was afraid to say, but he was a man of such few words—at least when it came to the ones that counted—that she needed to listen. And hope that he just might be ready to let her in.

  Instead he clammed up even further—and then left.

  Every step forward with this guy came with one that put them right back where they started. She wasn’t asking for much. Not yet, at least. Just something to hold on to so she knew she wasn’t going to get clobbered. Of course she wanted permanent with Luke. What they had was beyond what she’d thought possible. But he kept disappearing—emotionally and physically—when things got too close to real. What happened if she admitted she’d fallen, too? She hadn’t been enough for her father or her husband. Even if she and Tucker weren’t in love like they should have been, it still hurt like hell when he found comfort in another woman’s bed.

  What if Luke disappeared for good this time when all she’d asked of him was not to break her heart?

  Her throat tightened, and she braced herself for the tears. But they didn’t come. She wasn’t sad. She was angry.

  She didn’t know whether to storm out of his place or wait up for him just to tell him off to his face.

  “You don’t have a car, genius,” she said aloud. “Remember? Tonight was your first public outing as a couple.”

  She dug her phone out of her purse. It still had a few bars of battery—enough to give Luke Everett a piece of her mind.

  Except when she pressed send, she startled when she heard the sound of metal vibrating against wood.

  She spun to find Luke’s phone on the nightstand and groaned.

  So she was stuck—no car, no way to get in touch with him, and no way for him to get in touch with her—if he even wanted to.

  She stormed into the kitchen, letting the sheet fall, and flipped on the light switch before throwing open his fridge.

  “Typical,” she muttered when she saw the carton of eggs, a six-pack of beer, and various to-go containers.

  She checked the date on the eggs and nodded her approval when she found they weren’t actually expired. Then she rummaged through cabinets until she found an unopened bag of flour and various other baking sundries.

  “I bet your aunt Jenna set you up real nice when you moved in here,” she said, crediting the woman with stocking his cabinets and maybe at one point his fridge. Certainly not the latter anymore.

  In the absence of a mixer, she settled on a spatula and a giant metal spoon. Then, after preheating the oven, she got to work.

  It was after midnight when a car rolled into the driveway and Lily was pulling the last tray of cookies from the oven. She froze, tray in oven-mitt-covered hand.

  The door creaked open, and she heard Luke kick off his boots.

  “Lil?” he said softly, obviously seeing the light in the kitchen. “You up?”

  She didn’t have to answer because he materialized seconds later.

  “What the—” he started.

  But Lily interrupted him. “Oh my God. You’re bleeding!”

  She let the tray of cookies clatter onto the counter as she went to him, her hands inspecting the butterfly bandage over his eyebrow where dried blood stuck to his skin.

  “And you’re naked,” he said with a chuckle. “Baking cookies.”

  She crossed her arms over her breasts and pursed her lips, not caring that she was doing exactly as he said. “You know, you make it really hard to be pissed at you when you walk in here all beat-up like you are.”

  “I’m not beat up. Ace got spooked by a damn firefly is all. Knocked me off. Thankfully the fence post of the arena broke my fall.”

  She grabbed his hand, led him to the kitchen table, and pushed him down in a chair.

  “Did you even clean it off?”
she asked.

  He grinned. “Now why would I do that when I can come home to my naked girl and have her do it for me?”

  She groaned and strode into the bathroom, rummaging through his medicine cabinet until she found the hydrogen peroxide and a fresh bandage. On her way back, she also snagged a T-shirt of his that lay at the foot of the bed, trying hard to ignore the scent that lingered on the fabric.

  She would clean him up—and then let him have it.

  He’d somehow snagged a cookie and made it back to the chair. Before he could take a bite, though, she grabbed it from his hand.

  “Seriously?” he said, his eyes raking over her. “You take away my naked girl and my cookie?”

  She dropped the cookie onto the other side of the table, then set down her supplies. “You need to earn it.”

  He chuckled, glancing at the plate stacked high with snickerdoodles and at the fresh tray still cooling on the counter.

  “I don’t think we’re going to run out,” he teased. “Or were you planning on taking the whole lot home with you? I should probably remind you that I’m your ride, and I take gas payment in the form of baked goods—or you giving me permission to explore what you’re hiding under that Fruit of the Loom tee. I wore it the whole ride home in the truck with Walker the other day. I’ll bet it still smells nice and ripe.”

  He laughed, and she rolled her eyes.

  The truth was, it smelled like him. All man. All Luke. And she could live in that T-shirt if he’d let her.

  Lily huffed out a breath but didn’t respond. Instead she just got to work.

  She peeled off the bandage, the adhesive sticking to the dried blood and part of his eyebrow. But he didn’t flinch as she pulled it free, didn’t even make a sound.

  So this was how he was going to play it after all his teasing—Mr. Stoic?

  She poured hydrogen peroxide on a cotton ball and cleaned the cut. It wasn’t as bad as it looked once the blood was washed away, but it wasn’t nothing either.

  She scrubbed at the stubborn flecks, the slight tensing of his jaw the only hint that it hurt at all.

  “Why are you so impossible?” she asked, affixing the new bandage.

  “Why do you have such a rough bedside manner?” he countered. “Not that I don’t like it a little rough—”

  “Ugh!” she cried through gritted teeth, then headed for the counter, where she emptied the last tray of cookies onto the plate with all the rest.

  He was up and behind her just as quickly, snagging a snickerdoodle from the top of the plate.

  “Decided I wanted a warm one instead,” he said, his stubble scratching against the side of her face. “I think I earned it after being such a good patient.”

  She wasn’t going to let his charm get to her, not when he was sitting there bleeding. Didn’t he get how much worse it could have been—how much worse it would be if he let a bull get the best of him again?

  Even though she wasn’t there those few weeks ago when he got thrown, Lily imagined it now—Luke lying in the dirt. Broken. She could barely breathe.

  She spun to face him. “How about explaining why it’s so hard for you to just admit you’re in pain—any kind of pain? How about you stop punishing yourself physically for something you had no control over when you were a kid? You have broken bones, Luke. And a concussion. When is it enough?” He opened his mouth to say something, but she wasn’t done. “And how dare you tell me you’re falling for me and then sneak out the door? If you can face me and deal with all of that, then you’ll earn your damn cookie.”

  She didn’t need to snatch this one away because it crumbled to near dust in his rough, calloused hand as he backed away and, as seemed to be the theme of the night, strode right out the back door.

  “Shit,” she hissed. She padded into the bedroom, wrapped herself in his comforter, then followed him outside.

  The back light was on, but it did nothing to drown out the blanket of stars speckling the sky.

  His back was to her, but he hadn’t gone far. She tiptoed into the grass, stopping just before she was even with where he stood.

  “You’re probably starting to notice a pattern with my verbal vomit,” she said. “But you said all those things while I was asleep and then left me here to—to bake, and then you come back laughing and teasing like there isn’t some big elephant in the room we need to address.”

  “You weren’t asleep,” he said, an edge to his tone.

  She cleared her throat. “No. I wasn’t,” she admitted. “I was dozing off, though. But then you started talking—and saying these important things that you wouldn’t have said if you didn’t think I was unconscious.”

  He crossed his arms but kept staring straight ahead. “Maybe I’m not ready to say everything yet,” he said. “There are things I have to do first. I know it doesn’t make sense, Lily. But I did this all wrong. And I have to make it right. With everyone involved.”

  She took the few steps around him so she wasn’t having a conversation with his back. He continued staring into the distance at first, but she held her ground. Finally, he let out a long breath and dipped his head to meet her gaze.

  “What does that even mean?” she asked. “If there’s a certain way this was supposed to happen, then why did you let it happen at all?”

  He ran a hand through his hair, then shoved both into the front pockets of his jeans.

  “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said. “You were Tucker’s girl. And as far as I should be concerned, you still are. Bro code and all.”

  Lily scoffed. “Screw bro code.”

  He laughed, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I have messed up in so many ways, Lily. With you. With Tucker. My brothers. The only thing I seem to be able to get right is what I do in the arena.”

  She laughed this time, the sound bitter and resigned. “That’s what you call a dislocated shoulder, cracked ribs, and a concussion? Not to mention getting up close and personal with a fence post tonight?”

  He shrugged. “It’s all expected going in. I know what I’m up against.”

  “What if you get hurt again? I’ve watched a medical show or two. I’m pretty sure more than one concussion isn’t a good thing.”

  “Dammit, Lily.” His tone was strained, and she knew she’d hit a nerve.

  A chill rocked through her, and she pulled the blanket tighter around her nearly naked form. The question she wanted to ask was simple enough, but for some reason she dreaded the answer.

  “What happens if you get another one?” she asked. “Tell me one true thing, Luke. Straight to my face.”

  The muscle in his jaw ticked.

  “Possible brain damage,” he said, his voice tight. “It’s not a guarantee, but it’s a risk. I mean, you clocked me in the head with your death planner, and I was fine, right?”

  Her breath caught in her throat, and her eyes burned. How could he joke about this?

  “Don’t ride,” she told him. No—begged him. He had to hear her plea.

  “Lily—”

  “Don’t ride that stupid bull. You don’t have to. You actually have a choice here, and didn’t you say that’s what’s important to you—being able to make your own choice?”

  He shook his head and reached for her cheek, his palm rough after having ridden Ace.

  “I choose to ride,” he said flatly. “I know you think I’ve got some sort of guilt vendetta here, and maybe that is part of it, but it’s also something I’ve been working toward since I first climbed on a horse and knew I was good. I am the best version of myself in that arena. And I know—Jesus I know the risks. But I also know this will be my last ride. My last shot. Cancer took my mother and turned my father into a monster. I had to sit by and watch while Jack bore the brunt of the fallout for five damn years. I have lived my entire life on other people’s terms, Lily. This time it’s my say. I screwed up last time, let my thoughts get to me. But I won’t fall this time, not if I keep my damned head in the game.”

 
; His thumb swiped at the tear that fell from the corner of her eye, but more just came in its wake.

  “Maybe my situation is different, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand loss. My dad left me and my mom when I was twelve, and Tucker—well, you know how that turned out. I get what it’s like not to have a say, but you’re knowingly putting yourself at risk.”

  Her lip was starting to tremble, but she had to steady herself—to get out the words.

  “You said you wouldn’t break my heart,” she reminded him. “And if anything happens to you…” But the rest of her words failed her.

  He nodded. “I also said I wouldn’t walk away from you, so I need to make something clear. Me getting on that stupid bull is not the same as me walking away. But if you can’t handle it—if you want to walk away from me, you can.”

  She pressed her palm against his hand. “You are such an asshole.”

  He nodded. “There’s another truth for you.”

  She shook her head. “You’re about to risk the rest of your life for eight seconds of glory, and that scares the hell out of me. Have you considered what that would mean if I’m falling for you right back?”

  “Lily,” he said softly.

  “Do your brothers know? Does Jenna? Because they’d all tell you—”

  He stepped back from her, his hand dropping to a fist at his side. “Dammit, Lily. No one’s going to tell me what I can do or how much is too much. It’s more than eight seconds of glory. I thought you might understand that.”

  “What about their support?” she added. “Maybe you don’t want anyone telling you what to do, but what about them being there for you? Or their understanding at least? I want to understand, Luke. I really do, but I can’t get past the risk.”

  “And I can’t get past why you, Jack, or anyone I give a damn about doesn’t seem to have faith in my word.”

  He paced now, back and forth while she waited, letting him work through whatever it was he wanted to say next.

  She knew that feeling, that one where the right words wouldn’t come, when she just had to do something. That’s why there were piles of snickerdoodles in the kitchen.