by Jessie Evans
Grayson’s brows drifted up his forehead.
“Oh, come on, don’t look so shocked,” Reece said, rolling her eyes. “I’m full of shit, but I can admit when I’m wrong. Especially after tonight.” She crossed her arms and rocked back onto her heels before continuing in a softer voice, “It means a lot. That you came to apologize. And that you believe me. Not many people did. Not then and not now.”
“I’m sorry. That had to have made it so much worse.”
Reece shrugged. “I mean, I got in trouble when I was in high school for skipping class and drinking beer behind the bleachers. And I did everything the opposite of the way my parents told me to, but I wasn’t a bad kid. Not really. I’d never lied about something important like that and when everyone just assumed I was making it up,” she shrugged, “it made me crazy. And bitter…and angry.”
She looked up, meeting his gaze with a vulnerable look that confirmed his suspicion that there was a soft heart hidden beneath the tough exterior. “But I don’t want to be that way anymore. And I was thinking last night that it might be good to have a friend. One who knew where I was coming from with the not trusting people stuff…”
Grayson smiled. “I’d like that.”
“Good,” she said with a shy smile that was every bit as captivating as her naughty one. “But we’re not talking any more heavy stuff tonight. Tonight is for popcorn and Die Hard.”
“Sounds great,” he said, and it did. He had fun with Reece even when they were arguing. He was grateful for the chance to be her friend, thankful that she was willing to see him as his own man, and hopeful that there might be a chance for the two of them to escape the dark shadow his father had cast after all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Reece
Reece didn’t really want to watch Die Hard, she wanted to crawl into Grayson’s lap, straddle his thick thighs, and rub all over him like a cat in heat. He looked absolutely delicious in a pair of worn jeans that clung to his muscled legs and a gray flannel shirt that brought out the silver flecks in his blue eyes, and he smelled like a warm, woodsy slice of heaven.
Their difficult conversation at the door had done nothing to cool her lust for him, even though dropping her guard was usually the fastest way to get her libido to shut down. She realized that most people used sex to get closer to another person, but for her, sex and feelings existed on two separate planes and never did those two parallel lines intersect.
She screwed a man or she bared her soul to him, but mostly she stuck with screwing. Until this past week, she’d kept her introspection to a minimum and her sharing limited to whiskey and coke movie night with her friend Stanley, the only openly gay bull rider on her circuit and the only one who came close to understanding how hard it was to be the lone female in a male dominated sport. The fact that she still wanted to be skin to skin with Grayson after letting him into her head was unnerving, and made her think it would be best to keep some distance between them for the rest of the evening.
She perched on the end of the couch with her feet curled on the cushion between them and fetched Grayson his own bowl of popcorn so their fingers wouldn’t have to brush while they shared from the same bowl. But she remained keenly aware of the man, her nerve-endings prickling every time he glanced her way or shifted position on the cushion. And when the movie was over, it was an exercise in sheer will to force herself to stay on her side of the couch while they talked about their favorite eighties movies and where they’d been when they’d both realized that Die Hard was the ultimate holiday film.
“It was my first Christmas away from home,” Grayson said, setting his empty bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. “I was doing humanitarian work with the Air Force in Serbia and a few buddies and I ended up having a Die Hard marathon on Christmas Eve. How about you?”
“I was living in the back of my car while I was still on permit status with the pro bull riding association.” Reece laughed, remembering those endless nights curled in the backseat of her vintage Dodge Dart, with a mountain of blankets piled on top of her to keep from freezing to death. “I went into an all-night diner to warm up, and Die Hard was playing on the television on the counter. That was the night I realized that all I really needed to get by was hot coffee, the will to keep going, and some punchy one-liners.”
Grayson smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “How long did you live in your car?”
“About sixteen months,” Reece said, frowning as she counted up the time on her fingers. “Maybe eighteen. Less than two years, but it took a long time for me to save up enough prize money to feel safe spending it on anything but food and enough gas to get to the next rodeo.”
Grayson shook his head. “You are a tough nut.”
Reece shrugged. “I’m just stubborn. The more people told me I was never going to make it, the more determined I was to prove them wrong. Now that I’ve made a name for myself, the commentators say I’ve proven that sex, size, and weight aren’t as important as the old timers used to think, but all I’ve really proven is the power of grit.”
“And that you’re a badass,” Grayson said, nudging her knee with his, sending a fresh wave of heat flushing across her skin. “Wish I’d had more people like you in my unit when I was on active duty.”
Reece rolled her eyes. “I can’t even imagine. I’m so bad at following orders. Someone tells me to do something and I immediately want to do the opposite, even if I had my mind set on doing exactly what they said a moment before.”
Grayson lifted a wry brow. “You don’t say. Then you definitely shouldn’t come over here and sit on my lap.”
Laughing, Reece punched him lightly on the chest. “No, I shouldn’t. We’re having a friend night.”
She pulled her hand away, trying not to think about the chiseled pecs beneath his sweater or how badly she wanted to trace them with her tongue. She bit her lip, hoping her naughty thoughts weren’t showing, but when her gaze met Grayson’s and the air between them crackled with electricity, she knew he could read every wicked thing she wanted to do with him dancing in her eyes.
“So no lap sitting on friend night?” Grayson asked in a husky voice, making her think he was having a few naughty thoughts of his own. “Who made that rule?”
“I did,” she said. “I don’t sleep with my friends and I don’t get cozy on the couch with my lovers.”
“That’s sad,” Grayson said. “Don’t you think a lover should be your friend?”
Reece snorted. “Maybe in Happily Ever After land, but I don’t live there, do you? And it’s not sad; it’s simple. Uncomplicated. It also keeps people from getting hurt.”
“Keeps people from getting close enough to help, either.”
“I told you,” Reece said, bristling. “I don’t need help. I’d just like a friend who understands, that’s all.”
“I’m happy to be your friend,” Grayson said, leaning in until there were only a few inches between them, setting Reece’s heart to slamming in her chest. “But I don’t enjoy being put in a box any more than you enjoy being told what to do. If you decide you like having me around, that’s something you’ll have to deal with.”
Reece’s first instinct was to tell him she didn’t tolerate ultimatums, but she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was simply stating a fact, not making a threat. He wanted more from her than friendship and she was going to have to decide what to do about that.
Grayson’s brow furrowed as he glanced down at his watch. “But right now I need to head out. Layla and her husband split a couple of weeks ago. He was abusive and made some ugly threats when she left and I know she gets nervous at night. That’s why I don’t like to leave her alone for too long, not because I think she’s a trembling female who can’t take care of herself.”
Reece winced as her words from the evening before came back to bite her in the ass. “Got it. Well, let me know if you need backup with that. Like I said, I’m good with a gun and can shoot a wife-beating son of a bitch in the ass at a hundred f
eet.”
Grayson smiled. “Thanks. I will.” He stood and Reece stood with him, following him as he started back toward the front door. “I’ll be back early tomorrow to exercise those horses your dad wanted me to get to,” he said, fetching his jacket from one of the hooks in the entryway. “I meant to come today, but after everything went to hell at lunch, time got away from me.”
“I’m sorry, I forgot you needed to talk. That had to be hard finding out all that shit about Neil,” Reece said. “Want to get your woes off your chest before you leave? I have to take another pain pill and wait for it to kick in before I’ll be able to go to sleep anyway.”
“How have you been today?” Grayson asked, zipping up his heavy black coat. “Any more dizzy spells?”
“A couple, but nothing serious, and the pain was better this morning after a good night’s sleep,” Reece said, noting that Grayson had dodged her question. But that was fine. She didn’t really want to listen to him talk more about his father and what a let down it was to find out Neil was a full-on creeper, anyway.
Or at least that’s what she told herself as he drove away, his truck wheels crunching on the gravel outside. But the truth was she wanted to know more about Grayson’s life—the hard parts of his past, his present troubles, and how to make his smile lines come out to play—almost as much as she wanted to jump his bones. If they became fuck buddies, she sensed her feelings for him wouldn’t stay friendly for long. She’d only felt this kind of pull toward a man two times before and both times she’d jumped ship before friends with benefits could become anything more. She wasn’t looking for Happily Ever After and knew better than to start believing in fairy tales.
But Grayson wasn’t one of the cowboys she worked with, and she was only in Lonesome Point for eight more days. That wasn’t enough time for any seriously meddlesome feelings to develop. So maybe it would be okay to pick Grayson’s brain about how he’d moved on from his own batch of hard times and ride him all night long. Maybe a friend and a lover could coexist in the same man, as long as the relationship had an expiration date going in.
She wasn’t sure, she only knew that she wanted to cover Grayson in oil and play naked Slip ’N Slide on his body all night long and that when it came to temptation she was usually more inclined to give in than to even think about resisting.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Grayson
Grayson was back at the Hearst ranch at seven the next morning, but he didn’t stop at the house before heading to the barn. No matter how much he’d enjoyed spending time with Reece last night, he had to exercise the horses and get back to work on his own property. Work on the ranch was slower this time of year, but there were fences in the back forty that needed to be repaired.
Besides, he wasn’t sure it was a good idea to see Reece again so soon. He needed some time to think.
He was glad she didn’t blame him for the shit his father had done and wanted to be friends, but he didn’t know if he could pull off just friends with a woman so sexy everything she did made him want to get her naked. The way she drank a beer, the way she curled up on the couch, even the way she licked popcorn salt off of her fingers made him ache. He’d spent half of last night with his arm across his lap, hiding the hard-on that came and went as he tried not to think about how hot things had been getting between them on that couch the day before.
He wanted to banish the haunted look from Reece’s eyes, but he also wanted to watch them fill with bliss as he made her come. He could have put aside his lustful feelings if she truly wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship, but if she kept looking at him like she wanted to drizzle him with honey and lick him clean, he didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep from giving her everything she was silently asking for.
But not right now. Right now, he had horses to ride. Difficult horses, which would, hopefully, help keep his mind off of the graphic dreams he’d had last night—all of them starring Reece and not a stitch of clothing.
Pushing away memories of Dream Reece, Grayson headed into the morning gloom lingering in the Hearst barn.
Grayson had only recently returned to ranching work, but he’d learned to ride from one of the best coaches in the country. His father had been able to get a horse to do just about anything and taught his son everything he knew. Once, Grayson had been proud of that, but the more he learned about Neil’s past, the harder it became to reconcile the admirable parts of the man with the ugly things he’d done. Grayson had been around enough to know that almost no one was all good or all bad, but so many of the things Neil had done went beyond “bad.” Those pictures on his computer and what he’d tried to do to Reece were so wrong they tainted every memory Grayson had of his father.
As he exercised Atticus—a black stallion who was still testing the boundaries of every man who rode him—Grayson couldn’t help wishing he’d learned about horses from someone else. He was so sickened by what his father had done, and it was only going to be worse when the truth came out. There hadn’t been anything in the local newspaper this morning, but it was only a matter of time. There were no secrets in a small town, especially when it came to something like this. Grayson knew his father’s memory didn’t deserve protecting, but he wished he could spare Layla the fallout from the scandal, especially when she was already going through so much.
He was still thinking about small town gossip and having no place to hide from it as he headed back into the ring with Blueberry Stirrup, a green broke mare who was gentle, but easily spooked. He was nearly finished guiding the animal through her routine and was cooling her down, when a pickup truck pulled up near the paddock. Two of Dale’s hands emerged with steaming coffees in hand just as Reece stepped out onto the porch and called the men over, gesturing toward the barn as she spoke.
She was dressed in jeans and a boxy green sweater, but somehow managed to make the modest outfit look sexier than a string bikini. It was something in the way she moved, in the way she crossed her arms, tilted her head, and leaned a hip against the porch railing. And when she glanced his way and called out a husky “good morning” before heading back into the house, Grayson couldn’t help noticing the way her ample ass and strong thighs filled out a pair of jeans.
And apparently he wasn’t the only one.
When he led the mare back into the barn a few minutes later, the two hands were lingering near the tack room with their coffees, talking about the Hearst daughters like they were cuts of meat in a butcher’s window.
“Tulsi had a fine ass, too.” The shorter man shook his head as he tugged his John Deere hat lower on his face. “Dayum, but I miss watching that girl ride.”
“But her sister has a fine ass and big tits.” The taller man, who had the hint of a beer belly developing above the close of his jeans, lifted his hand in the air, miming the cupping of a breast. “I’m getting those tits in my hands before she leaves. It’s been too long since I’ve been with a girl who had a decent rack.”
“Yeah, right.” The shorter man laughed. “Dream on, asshole.”
“No, seriously, man,” Paunchy insisted, not seeming to notice Grayson tying the mare near her stall and starting down the aisle toward him, smoke practically coming out of his ears. “My big brother went to school with her; he says she’ll fuck anything that moves.”
“Really?” John Deere Hat paused with his coffee halfway to his mouth. “Like, she’s a nympho or something?”
“I don’t think it’s a disease, man.” Paunchy snorted. “She’s just a slut who likes to fuck. I mean, obviously not the kind of girl you’d want to take home to your mama, but I—”
The man broke off with a cry of surprise as Grayson knocked his coffee out of his hand, sending it falling to the dirt floor a few feet away. A beat later, he had Paunchy’s jean jacket in his fists, lifting the other man off his feet so he could deliver his threat inches from the asshole’s face.
“Reece Hearst is your employer’s daughter,” he snapped. “She’s also a person who has
accomplished something with her life, and as far as I’ve seen, has treated you with nothing but respect.”
“Let me go, man!” Paunchy shoved at Grayson’s chest, but Grayson wasn’t finished with him yet.
“All of the above are reasons for you to treat her with the same respect,” he said in a low, menacing tone. “But if you need another reason, I’m giving you one right now. If I hear you say another word about the lady that doesn’t have something to do with your work here on the ranch, I’ll—”
“Put him down, Grayson.” Reece’s voice came from the entrance to the barn. “Right now.”
Grayson looked up to see her standing silhouetted in the sunlight streaming into the gloom, one hand propped on her hip and the other clutching a shovel she’d stabbed handle-first into the dirt. Her face was in shadow, but her posture left no doubt she was pissed.
“I’m serious,” she repeated, leaning the shovel against the wall of the barn before hustling down the aisle toward him. “Let him go.”
“We were just having a little discussion,” Grayson said, loosening his hold on the other man. As soon as Paunchy’s boots hit the dirt, he scrambled backward, eyeing Grayson with a mixture of anger and wariness.
“Yeah, I heard.” Reece stopped beside Grayson and looped her arm through his. “Come on. Let’s go get a coffee while these two saddle up and get started on their day.”
“I haven’t unsaddled the mare,” Grayson said, resisting when she tugged on his elbow.
“Eli, unsaddle Blueberry Stirrup and give her a good brush down before you put her back in her stall.” Reece tossed her words over her shoulder to the man Grayson had just released. “Get it done quick and put in a solid day’s work and I’ll forget I heard you talking about my tits.”
Paunchy sputtered. “I-I didn’t mean anything by it, I just—”
“I know exactly what you meant, but none of those dreams are coming true, cowboy.” Reece held Grayson’s eyes, not sparing the man behind her another moment of her attention. “Now are you coming with me, Grayson, or do I have to knock you out and drag your big broody ass out of this barn?”