I nod, touched. Doc understands—this doesn’t need the law involved, and tensions are probably still high. “Yes, sir.”
He claps his hands, absolving himself of the matter. “Alright then. I’ll see you Monday.”
With only a slight nod to James, he walks away like grown men fighting for no damn good reason is just a normal, everyday occurrence. Hell, I don’t know . . . maybe it is out here? I turn to help James, but he pops his elbow out at me like he’s some sort of gentleman, except there’s blood trickling from his nose and a bruise already forming below his eye.
I sigh, taking his arm. “Well, guess I’ll be playing doctor tonight, and before you make some sex joke, I don’t mean in the fun way. C’mon, Cowboy.”
“Can I get a naughty nurse at least?” James asks hopefully.
“No. You’re going to get some antiseptic, a bag of frozen peas for that eye, and if you’re good, a hug. Don’t push your luck.”
James seems content with that as we go back to his truck and he drives us home, the fight with Brody Tannen already seemingly forgotten. I relax some when we get back and I get a good light on his wounds . . . no need for stitches, luckily—just some cleanup and a bag of frozen peas for the shiner.
It’s been a long day. The festival, the fireworks, and the fight have all taken their toll, and as we climb into bed, there’s only one thing on our minds. And for a change, it’s not sex.
James spoons up behind me, making me feel tiny and enveloped in his warmth as we drift off.
It’s quiet for a while, and I’m nearly asleep when he kisses the back of my neck, whispering, “Sorry about ruining our night.”
I let a small sigh escape and take his hand, wrapping his arm around me, and he gives me a tight, squeezing hug that feels like another apology. “You didn’t. We had a great night, before . . . Look, I’m not one of those girls who wants to see her man in action, fighting for her and shit. You don’t need to put on that strutting-cock alpha act to impress me.”
“I know,” James says softly. “That wasn’t about impressing you.”
“I know, and I don’t know that you could’ve handled that any differently. He was spoiling for a fight, and he got one. You handled yourself, you handled him. Maybe after a good night’s sleep and some sobriety on his part, it’ll be an almost-forgotten tale about ‘the Fourth of July we got into it’ that you tell your kids someday, especially when you’re going to be neighbors for the next hundred years or so.”
James bristles behind me, his voice stiffening as well. “As long as he stays on his fucking side, I got no qualms with him.”
I smile, patting his hip behind me to settle him, and curl back up, letting sleep overtake us both. “I know. Good night, Cowboy.”
CHAPTER 18
JAMES
Walking out of the theater, I can’t believe the unbelievable fun I’ve had spending the day with Sophie. It started off with some very delicious pancakes that I actually prefer over Mama’s, although I’ll go to hell before I tell her that. Fed to me mouthful by mouthful in bed, oozing syrup and butter, it was the best breakfast I’ve had in months. Of course, soon after the last bite was shared, the plate ended up on the floor, and I ended up pouring maple syrup over the soft, creamy mounds of Sophie’s breasts before we spent an hour having sex, slow at first before the sweet melded with the heat to create something that left me shaking as I came deep inside her.
Of course, with pancake crumbs and syrup all over her sheets, we had to strip the bed and do some laundry. I’m not normally that domestic, but it was fun being silly with Sophie before propping her up on the washer and kissing her all over. I just can’t get enough of her, and we nearly ended up having sex again right there in her laundry room.
Finally, just as the sun was passing noon, we got dressed and headed out. After my fight yesterday, I’ve got a pretty nasty little shiner; Brody’s first punch caught me a good one, so I didn’t want to walk around town inviting questions. Thankfully, Great Falls has a decent little theater, and so we caught an afternoon matinee, some sci-fi action flick where the guy with a thicker country accent than me is, of course, an engineering genius who “figgers out” how to “get dem durn aliens” without killing off any of the big stars.
It’s cheesy, it’s silly, there’s a ton of explosions . . . so it was a perfect cool escape from the summer heat. And it was at least interesting enough to keep our attention for the most part, especially with the wandering hands we both had throughout the movie keeping a fire burning as we teased and taunted each other, letting our hands roam closer and closer to the prize.
Somehow, we manage to not get kicked out for our inappropriateness, and we’re laughing as we sit down to a late lunch. Sipping at my vanilla milkshake, I give Sophie a little toast. “Thanks for last night . . . the talk, and after the fight. I appreciate your thoughts and your almost-vet first-aid skills. Seems fitting since I’m mostly animal anyway.”
Sophie snickers, raises her own milkshake, strawberry for her, and toasts me back. “No problem. And thank you for the festival date and private fireworks show. You definitely know how to court a girl.”
“Courtin’ you now, huh?” I ask, smirking. “Now where did you learn a word like that?”
She stops, eyes dancing with concern and a little bit of worry as she shrugs. “Back in high school, I watched a late-night movie with a cowboy trying to catch the girl he wanted, and he told her he was ‘courting’ her, and she didn’t know what that meant. It stuck with me because that’s definitely not a word I’d ever use to describe the guys at school. Did I use it right?”
She’s being silly, so I grin, laying on the accent a little thicker than normal. “Well now, Miss Sophie, I do reckon you used it correctly.”
She laughs and flicks a little bit of milkshake at me. “Smart-ass!”
I wipe the droplets away, laughing. “Okay, yeah. Although usually that’s a bit more old school, when a guy is pursuing the woman he wants to marry. Last time I really heard it being used would be with Mama’s generation. And let me tell you, to her, courting is serious business.”
She smiles anyway, and it strikes me that she is the type some guy is gonna court someday. It makes my stomach roll to think of some other guy chasing after her, marrying her, while I just keep riding the roads and the bulls.
Suddenly, I have a flash of her standing on the porch of a country house, a dark-haired baby on her hip, and in my mind’s eye, I see myself come out to stand behind her, wrapping my arms around her to highlight the plain gold band on my hand.
The image is so shocking I nearly drop my cup. Hell no. I’m way too young for that—too many more years on the road, too many more bulls to ride, chaos to conquer.
“You okay?” Sophie asks. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“Uh, yeah . . . just drank a bit too fast; ice cream headache, you know,” I lie, unsettled to the core. I move the conversation to lighter topics as our food arrives, but that quick image of us as a family sticks in my head, unwilling to be dismissed as readily as I’d like.
Wrapping up, I walk Sophie home, a piece of me wanting to go inside the house and continue this with her, whatever this is. Despite my misgivings, there’s a huge part of me that just wants to be with her, whether we’re talking or playing or having sex. I just want to spend time with her.
The thought that this is becoming a lot more than I thought it would be a few weeks ago makes my stomach flip-flop.
“You sure you’re okay?” Sophie asks as I stop, looking up at me. “You’re not looking too good.”
“Yeah . . . I mean . . . no. Just being hit by a sudden wave of guilt for throwing all my duties over on Luke again,” I say, sputtering. “I think I’d better head on home, make sure he’s okay handling all my chores.”
Sophie looks disappointed and confused. “I thought he was taking care of everything for you today?”
“He said he would,” I say with a shrug, feeling like I’m digging deeper
and deeper into the bullshit and not sure when I am going to stop.
She nods, but it’s obvious she can feel that I’m not exactly being transparent about everything. She lets it go, though, testing the waters. “No problem. Should I come with you?”
I shake my head, waving airily. “Nah, I’d better take care of my duties, and I need to talk to my brothers, maybe Mama, too, about Brody last night. We need to be on the same page about the Tannens to make sure nothing else happens. Can I call you?”
“Sure. Of course. Just, uh, let me know, I guess . . .” she says, trying not to look disappointed. It’s awkward, and it’s my fault, but I need to focus on what I know . . . the ranch, my family, and getting out of here to get back to the rodeo. What I don’t need to focus on is the sudden realization that I’ve developed feelings for a girl who’s going to be leaving town in less than two months.
After giving her a soft kiss on the cheek, I head out to my truck and drive like a maniac to get home, away from Sophie and her tempting confusion. Dammit, I can’t have this. I’m supposed to be focused right now. I get my shit done on the ranch, and come the end of the summer season, I’m punching out, working my ass off for finals.
What I’m not supposed to be doing is thinking all sorts of domestic things about Sophie. We’re from different worlds, going in different directions. When I’m going to be strapping on my chaps to see if one of Bodacious’s grandsons has my number, she’s going to be in a classroom learning things I could never understand. How could we ever be together . . . how could we ever have a family?
Shutting that train of thought down with a screech, I pull in the drive at home like there’s a demon on my tail. Luke comes out of the barn when he hears my truck, lifting a hand in greeting.
Before I can even get my door closed, I can already hear him giving me shit. “What are you doing home early? Sophie kick you out of bed for eating crackers, man? Let me guess, you played Eight Seconds with her, didn’t you?”
He’s grinning at me, but when I look up and he sees my face, bruised and starting to scab, the smile drops immediately, concern replacing the teasing. “What the hell happened to you, James?”
I try to make light, waving him off. “You should see the other guy. If the sheriff comes looking for me, I’m not here.”
But Luke’s not having it; he’s already gone into full big-brother mode before my very eyes. He grabs my shoulders, shoving me against the front of my truck, worry and surprise letting him get the better of me. “Who did this? And why didn’t you call?”
“It’s fine!” I half yell back, shoving him back a step. I brush off my shirt and run a hand through my hair. “I’m fine. Brody Tannen got a little drunk at the festival last night and decided to take out his anger at our handling of his dad’s offer on my face. I really did get a couple of good shots on him, too, before Doc stopped us. Sophie doctored me up, and it’s fine—just gonna be ugly for a couple of days.”
Luke soaks it all in, then breaks out laughing. “I hate to tell you, James, but you’ve been ugly for a lot longer than a day or two. And nothing Sophie can do is going to change that, unless she decides to be a plastic surgeon.” He gets serious again, and looks my face over. “Really, you’re okay? I don’t know why I’m asking this, because fuck that guy, but is Brody okay?”
I nod, amused at Luke’s last question. “Yeah, we’re both fine. Just stupid shit. By the way, thanks for those defense skills you taught me way back when we were kids—it helped. We agreed for them to stay on their property and us to stay to ours.”
Luke nods his agreement with me, and I continue, “I wonder, though . . . what has Paul been telling those boys of his to make them so damn-fired mad at us? Shouldn’t be a big deal, should it?”
Luke shrugs and leans against the bumper of my truck. “There aren’t too many ranchers out here now, just farmers and those artisan types who charge way too damn much for cheese out near the resort side of things. Guess we were always going to be in each other’s way at some level. I say we stay clear of them, and it’ll all be fine. We’re a little like the Hatfields and McCoys now. I wonder if the Hatfields were just as confused as we are about how they got locked into some feud, though? Maybe the McCoys were just as grumpy as the Tannens?”
We laugh, heading in the house to relate the whole story again to Mark and Mama. Mark is furious, although an outsider probably wouldn’t see it, his calm façade locked into place. But I’ve been his little brother long enough to recognize the twitch at the corner of his eye as the sign of impending doom it always has been. “I see,” he says quietly, stroking his chin. “Okay, then.”
Something tells me this won’t be the same as when he tackled me and pounded me into the dirt when we were kids because he’d caught me spying on him and his girlfriend.
Nope. I think that while Mark’s not opposed to some physical damage and more than capable of dishing it out, right now he’s thinking of some more serious strategies for dealing with the Tannens if there are further issues. Of the three of us, that’s Mark. I’m the Viking, charging off and running headlong into the fight more often than not. Luke’s Switzerland more often than not, calm and neutral but with great pride. Mark, though . . . Mark’s our Caesar, cunning and smart.
Mama wipes her hands on her apron and gets up from the table. “Well, now that we’ve got that whole story sorted out, I guess we’d best finish up before dinner. You boys head on out, and stay out of trouble. Don’t go looking for it, and if it finds you, you do what your Pops would expect of you and behave yourself like a Bennett.”
We mind her, going outside and striding far enough away that she can’t hear us or see us through the back door. We head over to the horse corral, where we lean against the wooden fence, just watching Briarbelle and her baby walk and chew on the scant grass that grows along the edges.
Luke looks at Mark, who’s scratching his cheek. “What do you think?”
Mark eyeballs me, giving my shiner a good look before replying, “I wish I would’ve been there. But I’m glad you’re okay and held your own against Brody. Let me do some asking around, see what’s up with the Tannens. You two just watch your backs, especially when you’re in town.” He directs the last part to me, knowing that I’ve been coming and going at all hours to see Sophie. “If you can, do as much as you can out here.”
I nod, while Luke looks resigned to the fact that he’s going to be kicked out of the bunkhouse more often. “Will do.”
Mark looks at my truck in the drive and seems to realize for the first time that I’m alone. “Sophie not come back with you tonight?”
I swallow, making sure that none of my earlier emotional tornado shows on my face. “No. Figured this conversation was better had with just family, so I told her I’d call her.”
Mark frowns a bit, then shakes his head. “She’s welcome in family matters if you want her to be. Besides, Doc has business with the Tannens, too; it wouldn’t be right for her to get shoved into a situation she’s not prepared for. But your call. She seems like a fine lady. Is she okay from the fight, no collateral damage?”
I nod, proud of that fact. “Yeah, I don’t think Brody even saw her. He was laser focused on me and jonesing for a fight. Sophie stayed back, too, although I think she was ready with a trash-can lid if I’d gotten caught.”
Luke grins, slapping his thigh. “Knew there was a reason I liked that girl. Still, one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Y’all need to help me set up a cot in the barn or something for when she’s around. I’m not sleeping in the house again. You know I love Mama, but you also know she snores like a grizzly bear.”
CHAPTER 19
SOPHIE
James doesn’t call that night, or the next morning either. I consider calling him, but since he seemed a bit flustered, I think maybe a day to calm down from whatever ruffled his feathers is in order.
I’m ruffled too; the festival was amazing. Playful and full of wonder when we walked
around, but tender and intimate when we were talking on the roof. Not to mention the hot pancake-syrup-covered sex after breakfast. Other than the fight, it really was the perfect day, and that makes my head spin a bit considering he’s dangerously close to ghosting me.
With my thoughts running, I try to decide what to do with an unexpectedly free day. Doc had to get his annual physical. Though he proclaimed himself “healthy as a horse,” I assured him that he couldn’t fully diagnose himself like one of his animals, and he’d begrudgingly agreed to keep the appointment, closing the office. Right now, though, I wish it were a regular workday and I had something to keep my mind busy . . . and off James.
Suddenly, my phone rings. It’s a number I don’t know, but it’s local at least. “Hello?”
The female voice immediately starts talking in one long run-on sentence, and I recognize it immediately. “Oh my gosh, Sophie! Is James okay? Brody came home the other night all busted up and wouldn’t say nothing about what caused it and Daddy said that Brody shouldn’t be . . .”
I grin, cutting off Shayanne before she talks herself into breathlessness. “Yeah, Shayanne. He’s fine. What about Brody?”
“Who cares?” she says, before sighing dramatically and starting up again. “He’s okay, I guess, just an asshat. Daddy says he needs to quit acting like a tantrum-throwing toddler if he ever hopes to take over the ranch. Told him there was ‘more than one way to skin a cat.’ Now, it took me almost two whole days of badgering him before he even told me what happened . . . and well, I just had to give you a call.”
“I appreciate that. Glad Brody’s okay, too, I guess.”
Shayanne chuckles. “Forget about him. That’s not really why I’m calling, anyway. I’m calling because all my menfolk went to the next town over to check on something then go fishing, and I’m home alone.”
Buck Wild (Bennett Boys Ranch Book 1) Page 16