She brought him up to date, handing him papers as she summarized her meeting with Courtney. He didn’t say a word while she talked; just reviewed the papers and listened.
He saw her inhaler lying on the table and pointed to it.
“I have asthma,” she said.
“Good to know,” he said, before he stood up, walked over to the coffee pot, poured some into a cup, and took a sip. It was cold.
“What do you think?” he asked, sticking the cup into the microwave, leaning against her counter as he waited for it to reheat.
“I don’t know what to think. I was getting used to the idea of not being his kid, and now this. I have a sister—a half-sister, which is different from a stepsister. It’s too much to take in.”
“What do you think of Courtney?”
“I don’t know. She seems legit, I guess. But this changes everything, don’t you think?” she asked.
“Yeah, it does.”
“I can have horses, raise horses. Do whatever I want to do. I’m in control, for the first time in my life. I can hold onto this land. Why didn’t my father tell me?” she asked, placing the papers in a stack and then back into the folder. She still thought of him as her father; he had been it all of her life. It was hard to think of him as anything other than that.
“I don’t know. Maybe he was looking out for all of your sisters and not just you. Or maybe he was angry with your great-grandfather and his father. Who knows?”
“Maybe I could be a little more forgiving if this wasn’t done at my expense. I mean how could he lie about something so vital? He did know what this place meant to me. I hate him,” she said, getting angry again. “Isn’t this considered fraud, and illegal? Wonder if I could send him to jail.”
“I don’t know. You’d need to talk to an attorney,” he said.
She stood up, walked to the back window, and wiped away the returning tears. He watched her for a while and walked over to join her, placing his hands on her shoulders.
“Have you been to the only bar we have in town?” he asked, moving his arms to surround her waist.
“No,” she said and leaned back into his chest.
“I think we should go out and get drunk, have wild sex in the back of my truck under the stars and think about all of this tomorrow.”
“What kind of plan is that?” she asked, turning to face him, the beginnings of a smile on her face.
“Come with me. You need a break. I need a break. I work hard for a living. Let’s go to the bar in town, or we can drive into Austin; Sixth Street if you want. It’s your pick,” he said, before leaning in and softly touching his lips to hers.
“I like your idea. Give me some time to change,” she said.
“How much time?”
“Thirty minutes. Drive around in your truck and blow the horn when you’re ready. I’ll come down,” she said.
#
Eighteen
Wow, he thought as he watched her make her way over to his truck. He apparently was way underdressed. He’d showered and changed into a simple shirt and jeans. She, however, had gotten dressed up, and he couldn’t remember ever seeing her look this good.
She had on heels, which put her close to him in height. She wore a simple dress, made of some flouncy, white material. It was the one she’d worn to Bentley’s wedding. He recognized it, having gone back to watch the YouTube video of her weekly now. And when he did, he didn’t really see anyone else in the room but her. He was in love. So shoot me, he thought.
It hugged her upper body and flared outward at her waist. The material of the dress was striking against the darkness of her skin, transforming her into something unforgettable. Lovely, nice hips—curvy and eye-catching—as they moved from side to side. He checked the air conditioner. Yes, it was on, but it was suddenly hot in here. He moved the dial to a higher setting.
She’d done something to her hair, but he couldn’t tell what. She’d put the back of it up. She had these dangling earrings falling from her ears. Some of her hair fell forward, giving her a soft and sexy look.
She opened the door and sat in the passenger seat, bringing her sweet smells with her.
“You look good enough to eat,” he said.
“Well, if you’re lucky,” she said, giving him a sexy smile, before she grinned and he laughed.
“You look beautiful,” he said seriously. He meant it.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Where to? You hungry?” he asked.
“Nope. Let’s dance first and eat later,” she said.
“Sounds like a plan,” he said, as he put the truck in gear and pulled out.
#
Courtney pulled up to her mom’s house. She needed to talk. What the hell? That was a hell of a surprise. To suddenly discover at almost 30 years of age that you have a sibling… it was an indescribable feeling, so new, at once strange and equally perfect.
“I have a sister,” she said it out loud, testing the feel of those words moving across her tongue. Screw that half-sister shit; she was going to be her sister, and they were going to make something of their father’s legacy and their great-grandfather’s dream. She had a partner; someone that understood her. It was going to be so good, this thing. She hoped Carter would come on board. A sister, and one so much like her—a kindred spirit.
She used her key to enter. “Mom!” she called out.
“I’m in here, in the study,” her mom answered.
Courtney found her mother on the couch with her feet up, wine glass in hand, watching some movie on cable. Her mother was a movie buff—the old-school black-and-white kind—even the silent films, if she could get her hands on any. She had dragged Courtney all over town movie searching; and the more obscure and foreign the film, the better.
“What happened? I thought you were going to live on the ranch.”
“Me too, except I met Carter and Mom, you won’t believe this, but she hadn’t seen the will. Didn’t know she didn’t have to sell. No one had told her. Not even her father, Carl.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, and that’s not even the worst of it. She told me that Carl is not her father, said he only told her that recently. That my father, Raymond, is her father, too.”
Her mother turned off the TV and turned to face her.
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know what to think, other than I’m glad we don’t have to sell.”
“What is she like?”
“Not what I expected. I thought I’d hate her, but that just slid away after I realized that she hadn’t known any of it. What an asshole Carl is. She was nice, gave me the tour, and was cordial throughout; way nicer than I would have been if our positions were reversed. She was shocked by the will; truly shocked and very hurt, I think. What a family to do that to her? I think that maybe it was good that I was raised here with you, Dad, and Roderick and not that wolf Carl.”
“How does it feel to have a half-sister?” her mother asked, letting her vent.
“Sister. I’m claiming all of her, and given all she’s been through, she could use me in her corner. I left. We thought it best to take some time to think things through,” Courtney said.
“You okay?” her mother asked.
“Never been better,” she said, reaching for the TV remote. “It’s turning out better than I expected. We aren’t going to sell, and I now have a sister. What were you watching?” she asked.
“One of my old favorites,” she said. Courtney watched the actors on the screen; Comes a Horseman, an old Jane Fonda movie. She knew this one. Her mother loved Jane Fonda.
#
He took her to some Latin dance hall in South Austin first, a large square building, painted a very loud shade of green with only one way in and out. She wasn’t even going to contemplate the safety issues surrounding that.
He knew the bartender and the members of the band. It was loud in here. She couldn’t hear herself think, which was good, she guessed. Rafael had pul
led her in close, doing something with his hips that left her struggling to catch her breath. He was a good dancer, and she let herself go, choosing not to give any thought to anything other than keeping up with the man in front of her.
He tried to teach her how to salsa but gave up 30 minutes later. He just laughed and moved her around the dance floor after that.
“You tired?” he asked, two hours into dancing. Her feet would never be the same.
“No, just hungry,” she said.
“I’ve got just the place.”
So here they sat, on a picnic table located next to the river that ran though the heart of Austin, the portion located south of town. Ten more picnic tables were scattered around an airstream trailer. Hector’s was the name on the sign.
She’d found a table, gotten napkins, utensils, and their drinks—a margarita for her, beer for him. She sat waiting for Rafe to bring over their food order, some type of new-age cuisine, a fusion of Korean and Mexican. She caught sight of a homeless man, someone had given him money and he was now in line, a few people behind Rafe.
She took off her shoes and sighed, her feet pleased with this new development. She watched Rafael make his way to her, his hands filled with two of those containers made for take-out. He was a sight to behold—sexy, confident, and his new attribute, fun.
She’d checked out the other women checking him out tonight. One woman had been more than a little bold. She’d danced over to them, and moved in close while Carter and Rafael had been dancing. Rafael had smiled at her as he pulled Carter in closer, wrapping her up tightly, his arms around her waist, before he move them to glide over her ass. He’d leaned in and kissed her—a kiss that caused some man next to him to give a wolf whistle. Rafael pulled back and smiled at the woman again. She laughed at that, and then moved away.
Carter had felt treasured at that moment, more that she’d ever felt before, even with Bentley. Was it so bad, Rafael’s list? She’d been giving it—and him—more thought lately, ever since that proposal. What if he meant it? What if he didn’t? There were worse reasons to get married. They certainly had a lot in common—a shared love for the land and making a living on it for starters.
“I have to warn you, these are hot,” he said, placing her order on the table in front of her, interrupting her thoughts and bringing her mind back to the here-and-now.
“Tacos.”
“Yes, but not just any tacos,” he said.
She took a bite and immediately reached for her margarita. He laughed and began to eat his.
“Wow, that’s hot,” she said, fanning her face when she could breathe again. “Delicious, though,” she added.
There was some Latin-sounding music playing softly in the background coming from the speakers attached to the trailer. There was a soft breeze flowing in from the river. She was glad she was here, relaxed with thoughts of the farm miles away from her mind now.
“You know the owner here, too?” she said.
“Yes, they buy from me. I supply them with the chicken,” he said, finishing off his beer and wiping his hands on the paper napkins.
“I forgot, Rafael, the owner of chicken and goats,” she said, smiling.
“Is that a problem?”
“Hell no! I like, love that you do what you love. There’s something sexy about a man being sure of his place in the world,” she said and he smiled, leaned forward across the table and kissed her, quick and hard.
“What was that for?”
“Don’t know. I felt like it,” he said.
“Where to next?” She asked.
“I’m feeling like smooth jazz and holding you close,” he said, his voice lowering.
“I’m feeling that, too,” she said, smiling, her voice lowering, too.
#
It was nearly three in the morning when they made their way back to his home. She’d had one or two more margaritas and felt way loose. He pulled in and parked.
“You coming in or should I take you home?”
“Are you inviting me?” she asked.
“I am.”
“Then I’m coming in,” she said. He reached for her hand as they walked over to his front porch. He pulled her to him, closing his arms around her.
“You have a nice home,” she said, closing her eyes for a second and breathing in the night air. She gazed into his eyes a few minutes later, then leaned in to kiss him.
He kissed her back, but it was a very different kiss from hers. Hers had been soft, but his was hungry, and he pushed through her lips to find her tongue. He moved them through the front door and closed it behind them. He turned her to face the back of it, lowered the zipper of her dress, pushing it from her shoulders. He didn’t unsnap her bra, but just lowered it enough so that her breasts were bare.
She felt him behind her, his chuckle against the back of her neck. She could feel him moving behind her, his hips grinding into hers. She heard the tear of a condom, but she couldn’t see anything, couldn’t turn around, pinned by his body against the back of hers, pushing her against the door.
He leaned back to remove his shirt and she felt his hands underneath her dress, softly caressing her ass, followed by the sound of a zipper lowering. He pulled her hips outward, tilted them up, lifted her dress, situated his legs between hers and pushed upward, filling her completely.
She groaned. He groaned, pushed his face into the curve of her neck, his forearms resting against the door, one on each side of her body, his head next to hers. Eyes on fire stared back at her. She was trapped, lodged between the door and his body, and he started to move, or rather his hips did, pushing her upward.
She moaned again and he pushed in harder. “Baby… you… feel so… good,” he said, his voice a rasp into the air as he thrust upward again. “It’s… sick… what… you do to…,” he said, groaned….before he could pant out the final word of his sentence, “me”, and thrust upward again. His hand went to the back of her head where he turned it to face him. He kissed her hard while he thrust up again, groaning into her mouth.
He let go of her head, like it took too much effort to concentrate, laid his head into her neck again and thrust upward, pushing her onto the tips of her toes. Their voices had turned to nothing more than grunts as he continued to thrust upward, then again harder, punishing even. She didn’t care, as long as he didn’t stop.
“Don’t stop,” she said to his grunt as he pushed upward again. He removed a hand from the door, running it over the smoothness of her breast before gliding downward past her hips, to her spot. How could this be she thought. How did he do this, this mix of soft with his hand and hard with each thrust? It had her inching toward her climax. He moaned as he felt her muscles quiver around him. “Baby…,”he said, followed by a few words in Spanish, and then a long torturous moan escaped his mouth, as if he was in pain, pulled from the depth of his person, his hips in overdrive now.
She hoped his door would hold, but then she didn’t care if it did or not. She came, hard with him, a few minutes later. He groaned into her shoulder, pushing into her one final time, lifting her off her feet, but still wedged between him and the door.
He held her like that for a minute, before he moved his hand to her waist, holding her to him as he stepped away from the door. He turned her to face him and kissed her again, softly this time.
“You are beautiful,” he said, pulling back, gazing at her body, her breasts cupped in this lacy black bra that he hadn’t had the patience to remove completely.
“You okay?” she said, eating him up with her eyes. He was something special with his black hair in disarray, sweat-covered skin, and jeans at his hips, barely hanging on, and one of the best parts of him, staring back at her.
“Yeah. Why?” he asked, bringing her eyes back to his, holding back his smile at her satisfied perusal of his body.
“You looked a little strange there for a second.”
“It’s what you do to me,” he said, serious now.
She leaned in and kissed h
im. “Thanks for tonight,” she said, and leaned over and kissed him again. “Thanks for making me forget.”
“You’re very welcome.”
“I want more,” she whispered against his lips.
“Lucky you. So do I,” he said, taking her hand, leading her to his bedroom. Who was this woman? How could he feel so much passion for her, when they had known each other for such a short time? It occurred to him then, that maybe his parents had felt this too, this… connection, so long ago. Had his father felt this too? The way he felt about Carter. He’d seen her earlier crying and he wanted again to make it all better. He wanted her to be happy and more importantly, he wanted to be the one that made that happen.
#
Sunday morning.
Carter awoke to the sound of a rooster crowing. It wasn’t light out yet. She checked her watch. It was five in the morning, and she was still draped over him. They were in his bed, at least.
She’d snuggled into a spot underneath his arm and rested her head on his chest. He was asleep on his back with one arm wrapped around her shoulder.
“You awake?” he asked.
“I am. I had a good time,” she said.
“Me, too.”
“I was supposed to have spent last night in Austin at my sister Savannah’s soiree; a night to meet all the single bachelors that her husband, the surgeon, could scrounge up. But this was so much better.”
“It helped?”
“It did wonders,” she said, peering out his bedroom window. “You do know that I’m partially responsible for getting myself here,” she said.
“In my bed? Thought we both had something to do with that.”
“No, I mean with my family. I could have said, “Screw you people. I’m going to ride horses. It’ll be me-and-my-little-cowgirl self in charge now, and we are going to run this ranch. If you don’t like it, you all can kiss my ass.” Instead I gave in, pushed me aside. I made it easy for them.” She leaned down, placed a kiss on his stomach, and smiled against his skin.
“When I was a little girl, my great-grandfather would stand me on the top rail of the old paddock after I was done watching him work. We’d look over at a horse he was training and he’d say “Carter it’s up to us kiddo—me and you—to preserve our heritage. Promise me?” She was quiet for a minute.
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