“You know what,” Lars says through clenched teeth, ‘I’ve had enough of this bullshit from you.” Jerking his wheel to the right, he comes to a screeching stop at the side of the road. I place my hand on the dash in front of me to stop myself from banging my head on the windshield. My seatbelt bites into my chest painfully and I wince.
“What is your problem?” I shout. “You could have gotten us killed.”
“You think I like the idea of hating you? Why the fuck would you think that?” he asks, voice calmer than before.
“Is that a serious question?”
“Humor me.”
“Because all you ever do is criticize me. I don’t work hard enough. I don’t have any concept of money. I picked the most difficult horse in the barn, which of course, makes me a selfish bitch. It may have escaped your notice that I was sent to the ranch to learn to ride a horse, work, and learn respect, but you aren’t teaching me any of those things. You’re teaching me that I’m just not good enough to do anything except shovel animal dung all day. If not for Emma Jean, I’d still be doing that twelve hours a day, wouldn’t I? So, you tell me, why do you hate me?”
I’m out of breath by the end of my fiery monologue, and he just stares at me with a weird expression that infuriates me even further. I wrench open the door to his truck and before he can grab my hand, jump outside.
The midday Montana sun burns my bare shoulders. Even my newly scrubbed scalp protests at being in such heat, but I ignore it and start walking down the road in the direction of the ranch. It will be a long walk—maybe a day if I push myself—but I am not getting back into his truck without a damned good explanation from him.
“Tamara, get back in here,” he shouts at me.
“Not in a million years,” I yell back.
“I don’t hate you at all.”
In the still hot air, the sound is no more than a whisper, but it stops me dead in my tracks. I turn and face him. He is standing in front of the truck.
“I don’t hate you,” he repeats louder.
“Well, in that case, you obviously need to work on your manners.”
“Tamara,” he begins, and I have a crazy wish that I could hear my name coming from his lips instead of hers. “I wanted to hate you.”
“I noticed,” I say with a scowl. “You did a really good job, too.”
“Will you shut up and let me finish? I’m trying to apologize.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you suck at apologies?”
He sighs elaborately then continues. “But you’re not what I expected. At first you were someone I couldn’t tolerate, but I realized that wasn’t you. It was a façade, and now that I’ve seen who you really are, I find it hard to believe that you are the person the media tears apart, or the one who wreaks havoc everywhere she goes. You’re down to earth, strong-willed, clever, intuitive with animals, and kind to Emma Jean. I wanted to hate you, but I don’t.”
I stare into his gray eyes. The sun is burning down on my head and shoulders, but shivers spark up and down my spine. I look at the ground, suddenly unsure of myself. “I wish I hated you too,” I mumble.
Lars takes a step toward me and pulls my chin up to face him. His face is even more beautiful up close. He has scruff that lines his jaw and wind-tossed black hair curling out from under his hat. His molten eyes pierce mine and I can’t look away. Is he going to kiss me? He looks like he is. How did this go from pure hatred to passion in a split second?
I feel my body involuntarily leaning toward him, and he pulls my chin further upward until my neck is almost uncomfortable. I arch my back to accommodate his height, close my eyes like the heroine in some romantic drama, and wait.
And wait.
His hand loosens around my chin. I open my eyes reluctantly and see him standing with his face centimeters away. “Jesus, Tamara, what the fuck are you doing to me?” he groans. Suddenly, he steps away from me. “Get into the truck.”
I obey immediately, my legs like jelly.
What the hell just happened between the two of us.
Chapter 26
Cass
“What do I do, Jesse?” I ask, lying back on my bed and opening the box of Sour Patch Kids that I bought at the grocery store yesterday. This morning, I’ve decided to eat junk food for breakfast.
She giggles at the other end of the line.
I scowl. “This isn’t funny. Do you understand the gravity of what’s going on here?”
“Oh no, I understand all right. It’s pretty straight forward. You’re busy drowning in a puddle.”
“Thanks, I’m so glad I called you for advice,” I say, popping the candy into my mouth. “Ooh,” I say, scrunching my face at the sourness. It’s been years since I’ve had one and I’ve forgotten how strong they are.
“He’s not there doing something to you, is he?” Jesse asks.
“Ha, ha, very funny. I’ve just popped a Sour Patch Kid into my mouth.”
“I think you should have sex with him. He wants you. You want him. Go for it,” she says. I can hear the smirk in her voice.
I spit the sour candy onto my hand and swallow a few times. It’s unbelievable how quickly my tongue feels raw and burned. “I can’t just go and have sex with him.”
“Why not?”
I look at the ceiling and clear my throat. “Because he’s so…contrary.”
“Contrary men make for hot sex.”
I put the candy on a piece of wrapper and survey the rest of the packets of sweets and chocolates. “I hardly know him.”
“Even better. Stranger sex is the best kind. More sexual tension,” she counters.
I laugh. “You’re crazy, you know?”
“Don’t you want a piece of that cowboy?”
“I don’t know. It’s complicated. I can’t get my head around the idea of sleeping with someone while being someone else.”
“Treat it as a fling.”
I lick my fingers. “I can’t do that either.”
“Why not?”
“I kinda of like him, Jesse.”
She pauses. “What? As in like, like?”
“Yup. He makes me feel things no one else does. Most of the time I want to rip his eyes out, but sometimes…”
“Here’s the thing. You’re supposed to be Tamara, right?”
“Yeah,” I say cautiously as I unwrap a Hershey bar.
“She would be all over him by now, so logically, by sleeping with him you’ll just be staying in character.”
I bite into the bar. “Be honest with me. Would you sleep with him if you were in my shoes?”
“I’d freaking throw myself at him,” she gushes immediately.
“Liar.”
“I so would,” she insists firmly.
“Well, I’m not going to throw myself at him and end up getting attached. After this month, I’ll leave and he’ll never see me again. It’s just not worth it.” I’m saddened by admitting such a thing, but these are the hard facts.
“Are you really going to pass up this opportunity?”
“You make it sound like this is a once-in-a-lifetime break. We’re talking about sleeping with my boss. As tempting as it may be, I’m not going to do it.”
“Don’t come crying to me when you’re back here in the suffocating smog and soot and you’re all regretful and sad that you didn’t get naked and ride the cowboy.”
“Stop being disgusting.”
“How hot is he, anyway?”
“You’ve never seen anything like it in Chicago.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Aww…come on. Do it for me,” she urges.
“No.”
“Girl, I’m living my life through you. You need to do something worthwhile for once. Just have some spontaneous, passionate sex then act like it never happened. You won’t get attached and neither will he. We all do it.”
“Jesse, you’re engaged.” I laugh.
“I lived it up in my glory days,” she defend
s. “Don’t judge.”
“I wouldn’t dare. Anyway, I have to go and take care of Thunder now. Lars is expecting to meet me in the barns soon.”
“At least think about it,” she says persuasively.
“Okay, I will.”
“That’s my girl. Bye, Cass. Much love.”
“I love you, Jesse.”
I end the call, spring to my feet, and gather up all the wrappers from my bed. It’s already quarter past nine and I need to be in the barns by nine-thirty, but I’ve already eaten, showered, dressed, and talked to Jesse.
I wave goodbye to Emma Jean and make my way down the hill toward the barn. I expect to be alone for a while before Lars joins me, but my expectations are crushed again when I find Butch is waiting inside for me. Does this mean that Lars is planning on blowing me off again? I shudder with barely contained rage and strut into the barn with a scowl.
Fine, I’ll learn to ride Thunder without him.
Chapter 27
Lars
I stand at the window of my office and watch as Tamara gently strokes Thunder’s head and talks to him in a low voice. He rubs his head affectionately against her. Gently, she leads him to the ring. She has an unexpected and completely natural gift when it comes to animals. I’ve always been a good judge of character, and every fiber of my being tells me that her bitchy façade is a hoax. She’s someone else entirely, but why on earth would she hide her true personality when it is so beautiful and appealing?
It’s incredible to think that she came here a little under two weeks ago. Feels as if she’s turned the place upside down, and not in the way I imagined either. All the men are fuckin’ half in love with her, and Emma Jean gives me looks blacker than the inside of a cow if I say anything about her that is not a downright glowing compliment.
I watch her saddle Thunder the way I taught her.
“Good girl,” I find myself whispering.
Then she mounts him. Her right leg is clumsy. Automatically, I hold my breath and silently pray that she doesn’t make any sudden moves that spook Thunder. Me praying? That’s a laugh.
Thunder stays still.
I sigh with relief when I see the happy grin on her face once she’s seated firmly on top of him. She says something to Butch, but I can’t make the words out. He raises his clenched fist high into the air to signal victory and she laughs. The musical sound wafts over to me.
I can’t help but slide my gaze down her body. It’s one helluva bod. That small and perky ass trapped inside tight jeans, and those breasts. They’re not huge, but they aren’t small by any means. I remember seeing a photograph of her in a magazine a few years ago, and I could’ve sworn they were much bigger. Very much bigger. Maybe she’s had the implants out. What I see now is a sight for sore eyes.
Round, full, ripe.
With the tip of her tongue slightly extended, she gives her total concentration to riding Thunder. Watching her becomes my entire world. It’s amazing how a single person can be so damned beautiful. She’s beyond beautiful. It hurts when a nasty voice in my head reminds me that all that buttercup and honey real estate I’m gawking at ain’t for me.
Her life is in LA.
She completes a circle and waves to Butch. He does the chicken dance and she laughs joyfully. Their obvious closeness irritates me. My gut burns with possessive fury. As if she’s mine.
How did a fucking scrawny kid like him get closer to her than me?
Fuck, I picked him deliberately, knowing that he isn’t exactly popular with women. With jealous, lustful eyes, I watch her stop Thunder next to Butch. The stallion stays calm, even though it is near a man, which surprises me. She has tamed him. She has actually tamed Thunder. She slides off the horse and they hug and dance around like a couple of idiots. I can’t even watch. I turn away and take a deep breath. I remind myself that she was never mine to begin with, which angers me even more.
Even though I try not to, I can’t help swiveling back to look. To my immense relief, they are no longer joined and are just standing two feet apart talking. I watch her get back on Thunder before I leave the window and exit the room. I know if I stay, I’ll end up doing or saying something I’ll regret later. When I’m around her, I don’t seem to have even the sense God gave a damned goose. I told her that I’d leave her alone from here on out, but I know I can’t honor the agreement.
I can’t seem to stay away from her.
As I walk back to my truck, Matt calls me on my cellphone.
“How’s the dick rider?” he asks.
I feel something tighten in my chest. I don’t want Matt to be disrespectful about her. “She’s riding Thunder as we speak,” I say to divert the conversation in a different direction.
“Whoa. Can you run that by me again? What the actual fuck do you mean she’s riding Thunder?”
I smile. “She’s sitting on Thunder and Thunder is moving.”
“You’d better be kidding me.”
“Nope.”
“What the fuck, Lars?” my brother swears. “Do you want a dead celebrity on your hands? Her old man will have a heart attack if he knew we put her on that bone breaker.”
“Calm down. Tamara figured out that Thunder will only accept females.” I think of Butch. “And it seems, feminine men too.”
“Right, that makes perfect sense, but I still can’t believe you risked it.”
“It wasn’t much of a risk. Thunder took to her instantly, and she’s got natural talent with horses. She’ll be okay. Besides, I’ve asked one of the guys to keep an eye on her while she practices.”
“You did what?”
“Just to make sure no harm comes to her. We don’t want old Honeywell breathing down our necks, right?”
“Right. Great move, bro.”
“I’m on my way out. Call you later?”
I end my call and walk to my truck parked not far from the barns. The first thing I do when I jump inside is to look in my rearview mirror. I see Thunder trotting around the field with Tamara seated straight and firm on his back. I’ve seen so many women ride horses, but Tamara is the second person who looks as if she belongs on the horse. As if the horse is an extension of her. The first person was Catherine.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out and look at the caller ID. “Sophia,” I greet with a small smile. I put my truck into drive.
“What’s going on?” my sister asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. Who is she?” Sophia asks. I can’t understand how she has determined that there is a girl in the picture from a single word.
“No, seriously. What are you talking about?” I insist.
“Lars, you’ve lost two trainers in like two weeks, and you haven’t called me to help with Thunder once. Thunder doesn’t take well to anybody, and I know you didn’t hire someone new to work with him. And just now, when you answered the phone, you had a lilt to your voice. You better tell me. I’m not asking you again, Bubba.”
I scowl at the nickname. “There’s nothing to tell because there’s nothing between us,” I growl.
“Us?”
“You’re making wild assumptions again. There is no us. She’s just here for a month then she’s gone.”
“Did you do that thing where you treated her like she was an inconvenience just by existing? Because you always do that when you don’t know how to act.”
I despise how well my sister knows me. “That may be why she hates my guts,” I admit.
“Oh, Lars. Ask her to dinner and bring her flowers. If she absolutely hates you, she’ll laugh in your face and turn you down. If you have a chance, she’ll accept. So, what’s she like?” Sophia asks.
Beautiful, smart, caring. “It’s Honeywell’s daughter.”
For a few seconds my chatterbox sister is struck dumb. “Which Honeywell?” she asks cautiously, even though she knows exactly which Honeywell.
“The Honeywell you’re thinking of.”
“Oh, my God! No. W
hat are you thinking, Lars?”
I smile to myself. “What happened to ask her to dinner and bring her flowers.”
“That was before I knew it was Tamara. She’s horrible.”
I stop smiling. “Look, I gotta go.”
“Fine, but this conversation is not over,” she says seriously.
Chapter 28
Cass
“Hell, Tamara, what the fuck are you doing to me,’ he growls, his eyes shimmering with a bright supernatural hue like a wolf’s.
The last time he said those words, he walked away from me, but now he grabs my face in his hands and swoops down on my mouth. My heart stops beating. The kiss is rough and possessive, like a man claiming his woman. My whole body starts humming as dormant desires wake up and an insistent throbbing begins between my legs.
My fingers slip into the waistband of his jeans. His skin is like warm silk. I feel the round metal button cool against my thumb. Deftly, I slip the button out of its eye.
I use both hands to drag his jeans down and I feel his shaft, so hard and ready for me.
“Oh, Lars,” I whisper, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
He grasps my button up shirt at the front opening and rips it in two. Buttons fly and ping against the wall. My shirt hangs open as his hungry eyes devour my body. He reaches behind and works the fastening of my bra. He flips the straps and it falls to the ground with a soft whisper.
“Jesus, you’re exactly how I dreamed you would be,’ he says, his big manly hands cupping my breasts.
Then we both hear this odd buzzing sound.
“Just ignore it,” I groan.
“What is it, though?” he asks, his voice curious.
The noise gets louder and louder, and I suddenly wake up. It was only a dream. Disorientated, I look in the direction of the noise. My phone is vibrating against the nightstand. For a second, I do nothing. Remnants of the dream still cling to me. It felt so real. I take a deep breath, hit the light switch, and press the green circle on my phone. Tamara’s tanned face flickers onto my screen.
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