“You better hope nobody comes to Outlook Point on a weeknight,” he gasps as his hips speed up. “Because I’m not stopping until I come deep inside you. You’re mine, Sophie. Only mine.”
“Totally yours,” I groan as I feel his cock swell. I’m trembling on the edge, riding my orgasm for as long as I can to draw it out for James, until he cries out, his bellow echoing over the valley as he comes. I’m right with him, pulling him in tight as I get swept away, my fingers digging into the cold metal of the tailgate as my pussy clenches around him and I hold him with my body, my heart hammering in my chest.
“God, I love you,” James rasps when he can speak again, gathering me into his arms. “I promise you . . . we’ll figure the rest out together.”
“I love you too . . . and I know we will,” I promise him, holding him close.
CHAPTER 22
JAMES
The next morning, I don’t want to leave Sophie’s warm bed, her hair scattered around her like a halo as she shifts about dreaming.
My lip curls up in a smile, and I wonder if she’s dreaming about us. After the night we’ve just had, I couldn’t imagine a dream better than what I’m waking up to.
I can’t believe she’s in love with me, too, that she’s mine. I really do wish I could just stay here like this, not letting life and questions about the future intrude on this perfect moment, but I’ve got chores to do. Responsibilities to attend to.
It makes me think, my fingers twirling a lock of Sophie’s hair. Both she and Mark have told me that I tend to think other folks are putting pressure on me, when it’s really me putting pressure on myself.
But why? Why would I do that to myself? I’m supposed to be the wild one, the one who just does his own thing and doesn’t worry about responsibilities or consequences.
Does some small part of me want to stay with my family on the ranch? Am I growing up, wanting to put down roots? I guess I always knew I would eventually, but sure as hell never figured it’d be now.
Then again, if this is the time, Sophie’s the woman I’d want to do it with. It might take a miracle—she’s still so “city” in so many ways.
But Pops being gone has changed things. I want to do right by him and Mama, take advantage of every minute. And am I really doing that on the circuit? The more I think about it, the more I’m really not sure.
I’d miss the thrill, of course . . . the energy and excitement, the unknown of what’s gonna happen in the next eight seconds, the new horizons to see every day.
But maybe Pops was right and there’s something to be said for a day’s solid work and knowing you’ve taken care of your people the best way you can.
All I know as I carefully extract myself from Sophie’s arms and get dressed is that I’ve got some hard thinking to do between now and finals. Once I’m ready, I plant a soft kiss on Sophie’s forehead. “Bye, Soph. I’ll call you later, okay?”
She mumbles in her sleep for a moment before one eye opens, and she smiles sleepily. “Bye, Cowboy. I love you.”
She quickly snuggles under the covers, and I watch her, already snoring lightly again, for a moment before I whisper in the cool air, “I love you too.”
Silently, I slip out into the dark predawn morning, heading home. It feels good, feels right, and for the first time, I go happily and willingly, not begrudgingly.
I’m barely through morning chores and out moving the herd to another pasture when I hear Mark’s infamously loud whistle from up by the barn. He’s quite good with it. He even won a prize at a county fair for being so damn loud, netting him $118 and a little trophy.
Curious, I pull my horse around and head toward him, vaguely wondering if Paul Tannen has decided to make another visit after my fight with Brody. Letting my horse go into the enclosed pasture behind the barn, I see Mark and Luke already waiting on me.
“What’s up? By the way, the cows are fine in the west pasture.”
Mark nods, like he expected nothing less. Then again, he shouldn’t; I know what I’m doing. “Did some checking around in town. Asked some folks a few questions about Paul Tannen.”
I meet Luke’s eyes as he looks back, eagerness and trepidation mixed equally in his like I’m sure is visible in mine. “Well,” I say impatiently when I see Luke isn’t going to break the ice, “we’re waiting . . . out with it.”
“He’s a gambler,” Mark says after a moment. “Likes to run up to the Indian casinos almost every weekend, playing poker mostly. Word is he’s flush right now, but he’s known for having some high highs and low lows because he bids like he’ll never lose. With him being up right now, he’s looking to expand property—that’s why he made the offer on our land. But . . .” He pauses, a sigh escaping as he looks skyward. Mark is never one for melodrama, so his reticence to spill makes me all the more edgy.
Also, Mark might be the strong, mostly silent type, but when he does open his mouth, he isn’t exactly subtle.
“What happened?”
“Me asking questions, it got folks wanting to know why, so I was honest that he asked about buying us out,” Mark replies. “Seems he owes some people money, and they’re thinking they should be paid before he goes increasing his spread. I might’ve rustled up a little trouble for him. Unintentionally.”
I wince, knowing this could get very bad very quickly. “Wow. A gambler? I never would’ve thought. I mean, it just seems unlike the man, you know? He always struck me as the type who’s as tightfisted as they come.”
Luke grunts his assent, looking over at Mark. “So, whatcha thinking?”
Mark sighs and pushes his hat back before nodding to himself. “He might not be the best type of man, but I do my best. And if I created problems for him, I owe it to him to let him know. I’m thinking we go over together, make it clear we aren’t interested in ever selling, and apologize for any issues my questions might’ve triggered.”
That’s Mark, and one of the reasons he’s the one that’ll take this ranch into the next generation. He’ll stand up for what’s right, even if it hurts him. Luke nods, looking concerned, though. “Him and his boys aren’t gonna like us showing up unannounced and spilling some family secrets. Might get ugly.”
I’m already riled, anger left over from Brody’s sucker punch, but I hold it back. “We can take care of anything they bring up. Paul Tannen brought this on himself; we’re just protecting our property. And Mark is doing the right thing by letting him know there might be trouble headed his way.”
Luke sighs, and Mark gives me a wary eye. “We are not going in there spoiling for a fight or looking to start an argument. We go in calm and controlled, all of us, or I’ll go by myself.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “You’re not going over there alone! One wrong word, and Luke’s going to be the one left running this place because you’re going to end up in the hospital for six months.”
“Then I guess you’re going to stay calm?” Mark asks softly. “Even if Brody acts like a dumbass?”
He’s asking, but it’s not a question, not really. I nod, knowing he’s right, just like he always is.
Luke spits in the dirt; he’s picked up a habit of chewing sunflower seeds when he works in the barn. “Hey, what about Shayanne? Should we tell her along with Paul and Brody? She’s young to be dealing with this kind of family drama.”
“I don’t know,” Mark admits. “If she’s there, she’s there. We’ll just ask to speak to Paul and Brody. If the rest of the family is there, we’ll deal with it.”
A thought hits me, and I smile a little, knowing I can actually contribute something besides muscle and good looks to this family for once. “Actually, Sophie might be able to help. She hung out with Shayanne last week. Maybe she can give her a call for a girls’ night?”
Mark nods; the decision is made. Mark gives us both one more warning as he reseats his hat to head over to the mechanical barn to start his work for the day. “I think it goes without saying that there won’t be a word about this at dinner wi
th Mama.”
“Right,” Luke and I both agree. Going inside the house to grab a big drink of water and refill my canteen, I fetch my phone to call Sophie. It’s about lunchtime; maybe I can catch her now. “Hey, Soph! How you doing, darlin’?”
Sophie chuckles lightly, sending a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the chill of the ice water trickling down my chest. “Oh, are we doing daytime calls and pet names now, Cowboy?”
I laugh. This woman gets me at every turn, calling me on my shit and making me grin more than a man has a right to. “Yes, honeybunch,” I reply sarcastically in a voice more suited for an old sitcom than anything else. “That’s exactly what I’m doing, snookums.”
Sophie laughs, making me smile even more. “If you’re going to be a smart-ass, I won’t tell you about this awesome dream I had this morning. I was all snug in bed, dreaming of this hot guy, and then poof, there he was in my room, kissing me and saying ‘I love you’ in between doing things I really can’t describe around a bunch of innocent kittens and puppies. But when I woke up, he was gone. Must’ve just been a dream.”
Glancing around to make sure no one’s in hearing range, I grab my canteen and head out onto the porch, keeping my voice low, just in case. “It’d have been a dream if I could’ve stayed snuggled up with you all warm and soft, but the ranch calls. You understand, right?”
I think most girls would be pretty put out with their guy always slipping out of bed at stupid o’clock, but Sophie just takes it in stride like she does everything else. “Of course I do, James. Besides, what if I have to roll out of bed at midnight to take care of someone’s dog? Would you hold that against me? Work only gets done if you do it.”
I grin, thinking Pops would’ve liked that saying quite a bit. “Well, depending on what we were doing right before that midnight call, I might be a little put out,” I reply. “But thanks for understanding. Can I ask you a favor?”
“Sure. As long as it’s not butt stuff. That’s a nope.”
I can hear the smirk in her voice, and I peek around to make sure I’m alone before I answer her. “Dammit, now all I’m gonna be thinking about all day is fucking that tight ass of yours while you wear my hat. I think you could handle it. Slow and easy while I rub your little clit . . . I’ll make you love it, crave it even. You sure about that no?”
I can hear that her breathing has picked up from my words, her body likely already heated for me, but she doesn’t answer. Instead, she shifts around, and I hear a door lock.
“I can hear you breathing harder, Soph,” I continue, even as my cock throbs in my jeans and I think I might need to find my own little patch of privacy. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Would I be the first to take your ass, claim you completely? You’d love it, I promise. I’d make your virgin ass come all over my cock.”
A shuddering noise comes through the line before she finally speaks. “Fuck, James. You drive me crazy.” Her voice is raspy, tight, and I know she’s thinking about it. “Maybe,” she finally says. “We’ll have to do some work, some play, see what you can do . . . maybe.”
Right now, that’s more than enough, and more than I thought she’d give, considering we started out just teasing, and this wasn’t at all where I thought this conversation was going. “Deal.”
Luke pops out of the barn, giving me a questioning look and waving. “She gonna call Shayanne?”
Oh yeah, that was why I called. I’d damned near forgotten with thoughts of taking her that way. “So, Luke just reminded me, I have a favor to ask, if you don’t mind?”
Sophie laughs shakily, but hums. “Getting me horny in the back of the office wasn’t the favor?”
I grin, carefully avoiding how I think it’d be a lot better if she were horny down by the pond, or even right here in the middle of the yard. “No, as sexy as that conversation was and as much as I’ll be thinking about it all day, this one involves Shayanne.”
“Shayanne?” Sophie asks. “Nope. I don’t share my man, I don’t care how pretty the girl next door is.”
I laugh, then give her a quick rundown of what Mark told us, editing it so that Sophie isn’t quite let in on all of Paul Tannen’s vices, and ask if she’d mind calling Shayanne for a girls’ night in. “Think you can do that?”
“I think I’ll have a full set of soaps to send out for Christmas gifts if I do, but hell yeah!” Sophie says. “But . . . what about you?”
“I promise, tomorrow night I’ll be all yours to do whatever you want,” I reply. “It’s gonna kill me to not have you in my arms tonight, especially considering I’m expecting the Tannen meeting to go shitty, despite Mark’s stoic nature. But I’ll make it up to you.”
By the end of dinner, Mark, Luke, and I are all feeling a bit shifty inside, I think. At least I am, for sure. You can never really tell with Mark, and Luke is so good at playing mellow that I’m not always sure if it’s real or a front. He should have been a poker player instead of Paul Tannen; it’s hard to know when Luke’s bluffing you or not.
But I have enough butterflies for the three of us, so we’re probably good. My goal is to not punch anyone. Should be easy enough, but I’m not sure, considering we’re going into the proverbial lion’s den to tell him he’s fucked.
I can’t picture any outcome where this goes well.
The short ride over is quiet; there isn’t really all that much to say. Either what Mark says is accepted, or it isn’t. Either someone starts some shit, or they don’t. No matter what, though, while I won’t be the first to throw a punch, I’ll make damn sure that my brothers and I are the last ones standing if things go stupid.
We’ve been silent the entire ride as we all get our game faces on. Pulling up in the dirt driveway, I notice that the Tannen house is just a little . . . I’m not sure, maybe the word I’m looking for is . . . dingier than I last remember. It’s not that things aren’t trimmed and such, but the paint’s looking old, the trim looks a little weathered, like maybe more than once Paul’s stretched the budget on household maintenance in order to cover his gambling losses. It sort of makes me wonder just how he was able to afford that new truck of his, or how he could actually buy us out even if we were willing to sell.
By the time we stop, Brody is already on the front steps. We climb out as he walks toward the truck, his eyes already squinty and looking like he’s ready to start something.
“You boys got some fucking nerve showing up here.”
Mark, who decided not to wear a hat for this visit, still doesn’t flinch as he looks Brody stone-cold even. “Not here on a social visit. Got something I need to tell your dad. You too. Paul around?”
Brody’s eyes narrow further, like he’s trying to visually read us and see what’s going on. Finally, he gives in with a jerk of his head toward the house before walking back inside. It seems to be the only invitation we’ll be getting, so we follow.
Inside, it’s more of the same. Everything is practically spotless, just . . . older and more worn.
As we come into the front room, Paul’s coming down the hallway, but he stops when he sees us, delight obvious on his face. “Ah, boys . . . I hope you have come to your senses. Ready to talk some figures?”
Mark shakes his head and stops just a few feet inside the room, far enough in for Luke and me to be in with him, but not so far we can’t hightail it if we have to. “No, sir. Here on a related problem, but we’re not interested in selling.”
“I see. What seems to be the problem?” Paul replies, the congenial salesman replaced with truculent disdain and a little bit of menace. His boys hear it too. Bobby and Bruce have joined us now, fanning out beside their father. For some reason, it reminds me of elementary school, when the teacher tried to have us play dodgeball. Two teams lined up, staring at each other across the court . . . just waiting for that red ball to drop.
Mark and Paul are eyeballing each other, taking each other’s measure. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, everyone on edge and waiting for th
e first move.
Finally, Mark breaks the silence. “Well, you coming around, aggressively trying to buy us out so quick after Pops passed made me curious. We ain’t close, so I wondered how a man like you, with a big spread of his own, a fancy new truck and such, could have the funds to get a loan for a property our size. So I asked around a bit . . .”
Paul interrupts, his face going a furious pink. “You mind your own goddamn business and keep your nose out of mine, boy. Seems your daddy didn’t teach you the basics of being a good neighbor.”
Mark stays calm, even as I see Luke’s fist tighten at Paul’s comment about Pops. “Our father taught us good fences make good neighbors, just like Robert Frost said. Now, this is a courtesy, and you’d best listen, sir. I asked around, and found out about your gambling activities. Seems you like some pretty high-stakes poker games up at the casino.”
As Mark talks, I sense the agitation in Paul building, but my eyes never leave Brody, since he’s the one on my watch. I notice the way his eyebrows shoot up in surprise when Mark mentions gambling, and the way his eyes ping-pong between Paul and Mark for a moment before he returns his look to me.
I can see there’s confusion there. Maybe he didn’t know about his daddy’s gambling issue either? If not, this could get uglier than ever . . . and we may not be the ones fighting.
Mark continues, his voice still low and respectful. “Apparently, there’s some ‘poker buddies’ of yours that seem to think they should be paid back for your debts before you go buying up more land. I didn’t know anything about it; I wanted to just know what lit a fire under you so much for getting our property. If I fetch trouble down on your head about that, I apologize. But considering you have your own responsibilities to worry about, both here and in town, I think we can officially call any business you might be considering regarding our land to be finished.”
Buck Wild (Bennett Boys Ranch Book 1) Page 19