by K. C. Crowne
“Right on. See you in a few.”
I hung up. Of course, I hadn’t mentioned that part of the reason I wanted to check out Raw Heart was that Skye had mentioned she hung out there. Fuckin’ bad idea. Booze and dancing and a girl I wanted to get naked and up against the wall. Not a combination if I wanted to be a professional boss. But what the hell was I supposed to do, ignore the fact that she was so fuckin’ fine just the thought of her was enough to make me rock-hard?
Maybe so. But the plan was set. I finished the lukewarm dredges of my coffee, put away my notes, and grabbed my keys to head out.
The sun was well into setting as I drove off the property, the sky wild with oranges and blues and purples, wispy clouds swirling among the colors. I loved nights like that, nights that made me realize how damned lucky I was to live the life I did.
It took about twenty minutes to get to Adam’s place, a modest ranch home where he lived by himself. I pulled out front and laid on the horn, our usual way to get the other’s attention when we pulled up.
The door opened, and Adam stepped out. People always made the mistake of thinking he was one of the Walker boys, and it was easy to see why. He was tall and broad-shouldered, built strong like my brothers and me. But while we were all bright-eyed and rugged, Adam was a little more clean-cut. His face was clean-shaven, his eyes dark as his slicked-back hair.
“’ Bout time your ass showed up,” he said with a slight grin as he poured into the passenger’s seat and shut the door behind him.
“Is that right?” I asked, pulling my vehicle away from the house. “You know, I’m pretty damn surprised to be gettin’ you out of the house without any fuss. Thought I might have to talk you out of spendin’ the night by yourself with a sixer and some Sports Center reruns.”
He shrugged. “Figured I’d save you the usual hassle and go along with it. ‘Sides, can’t be a shut-in every night.”
Another difference between the two of us – Adam liked his privacy. Sure, I kept to myself when I felt it, but sometimes I got the impression he was too damned reserved for his own good.
“Alright,” he said as we drove. “So we’re goin’ someplace new.”
“That’s the plan. Got the suggestion from the girl I hired today.”
His eyes flashed at the mention. “You know you’re gonna tell me about her, right?”
I shrugged. “What’s there to say? She’s credentialed out the ass, knows her way around a horse, and she’s ready to learn. Good hire as far as I’m concerned. But we’ll see how she works out.”
“That’s all you got to say?”
“What else is there to say?”
“I mean, this girl invited you out for drinks, and you’re actin’ like she’s any other hire.”
“Invited me out? Nah, she said she sometimes hangs out there, but it ain’t like we planned a date or some shit. I’m her damn boss.”
He laughed. “Yeah, and girls gettin’ all starry-eyed about their bosses is some shit that never happens.”
“Think you’re jumpin’ the gun here, bud. Last thing I need is a complication like that.”
“Whatever you say, Trav.”
Sometimes I forgot that Adam had known me long enough to see right through me. No doubt he could tell that playing it cool about the subject was my way of avoiding the topic of whether I was into her. Another avoidance tactic: Hank Williams played on the stereo, and I turned it up.
“What’s her name?” Adam asked over the loud song.
“Skye Phillips.”
He thought the matter over like there was some puzzle to figure out. “Doesn’t sound familiar. She from around here?”
“Nope. From Sheppard. How she knows about the bar.”
“And what bar we goin’ to?”
“Raw Heart Saloon,” I said. “Comes highly endorsed by the lady in question. We’ll see if it lives up to the hype.”
The music filled the air as the conversation died out. As soon as it did, Skye appeared in my thoughts like an invader. I pictured her on Mabel, her legs spread on top of the horse, her hips rocking as she coaxed the animal.
I thought about the interview, how I’d kept my cool. Maybe too cool. But shit, what the hell was I supposed to do? As soon as I’d laid eyes on her, I’d known I wanted her like crazy. Playing it close to the chest was my way of not letting my attraction get the best of me.
We drove at an easy pace to Sheppard. The town itself wasn’t all that different from Patterson. A small place of around a few thousand people, the downtown a collection of diners and general stores and government buildings. Eventually, after the sun had long set and the night sky had gone all glittery with stars, we reached the Raw Heart Saloon. It was a big place that looked like an old barn but with a big ass neon sign with the name of the bar and a flashing red heart underneath. A few dozen cars were parked out front, trucks for the most part.
I pulled into a spot and killed the engine, and we climbed out and headed inside. Country music blared, muffled in the parking lot, and growing louder with each step we took.
“Fuckin’ hell,” I said as we approached. “I need a damn drink.”
“Right there with ya.”
I pulled the door opened, and we stepped inside. The place was a ruckus, that was for damn sure. It was a big, open space, looking as much like a barn on the inside as it did on the out. Straw covered the floor, and a big U-shaped bar cut through the middle. A dancefloor was toward the back, plenty of cowboy and cowgirl types two-stepping their hearts out. The music was loud, just right for a night of drinking and getting crazy.
“Looks like Sharpe’s,” Adam said as we made our way into the bar.
“But it ain’t. Consider it broadenin’ your horizons.”
Adam offered a weak smile, but I could tell he wasn’t crazy about the crowd. Sharpe’s was a dive like this place, sure, but it tended to be more low-key, mostly ranch hands and other townsfolk unwinding with a few drinks. This was more like a party – my sort of place, but not Adam’s.
“Grab a table,” I said. “I’ll get the first pitcher.”
Adam nodded, and we split up. I melted into the crowd gathered around the bar, trying to get close without causing a problem. By the time I reached the front, I could see the crowd on the other side. And there she was. Skye. And sweet Lord, did she look good. At the interview, she’d been wearing her professional best – a pantsuit and her hair done up. But here she was dressed for something else entirely. Her killer body was packed into a pair of skin-tight jeans, a small silver belt buckle in the middle. She wore a checkered cowboy shirt, and her strawberry-blonde hair hung loose on her shoulders.
However much I wanted her before, it doubled as I stared at her. I wanted her every which way – on top, underneath, and from behind. I wanted to pounce on her, get between those legs, and make her come again and again. It was fucking crazy how wound up I was for her.
From across the bar, we made eye contact, and her green gaze flashed, and a coy grin formed on her lips. Skye was happy to see me, and the feeling was more than mutual. My cock shifted in my jeans, and it took all the self-control I had to get it to calm the fuck down.
“My man!” the bartender said in an impatient tone. “What you need?”
I snapped back into the moment. “Uh, gimme a pitcher of Bud. Two glasses.”
He nodded and went to it, and moments later, I had the beer in hand and was on my way back to the table. I glanced over my shoulder on the way there but couldn’t spot Skye among the crowd.
“’Bout damn time,” Adam said with a joking, ball-busting tone. “Dyin’ of thirst over here.”
“When it’s your turn, see how fast you can get through that mess.”
“Just storm on through,” he hollered. “How we learned to do things in the desert.”
“Yeah,” I said with a grin. “Pile in your Humvee and drive to the bar.”
He laughed. “Somethin’ like that.”
I was happy to bullshit with Adam,
but I’d have been lying if I’d said I weren’t distracted as all hell by the idea of seeing Skye again. My eyes stayed on the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Before too long, she stepped out of the masses of people, her eyes locked on me as she strode toward our table. I was only halfway through my first beer, but I could already feel what little inhibitions I had melting away. I wanted her, regardless of her employment status.
“Hey, Travis,” she said once she reached our table.
“Evenin’, Skye.” The words came out easy. I wasn’t feeling the tension I had during the interview.
She turned her attention to Adam. “And let me guess, this must be one of the other Walker boys. I can tell ‘cause you look just like him.”
Adam’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Wrong on both counts,” he said. “I’m not one of the Walkers. And I’m way better looking than this ugly cuss.”
I laughed, giving Adam a friendly jab on the arm. “This is Adam Carter,” I introduced. “Good friend of mine from back in the day.”
“Skye Phillips,” she introduced. “A pleasure.”
They shook hands, Adam taking hers all polite-like. There was a flash of something in his eyes, a look that reminded me of what I must’ve looked like when I’d first clapped eyes on the girl.
“Likewise,” he said, grinning at her.
I put my boot on the bottom rail of the open stool and pushed it toward Skye. “Come on, have a seat.”
She smiled sweetly before sitting down. “So,” she began, glancing between us. “You boys enjoying the Raw Heart?”
“Not what we’re used to,” Adam told her. “Or not what I’m used to, at least.”
“You’re gonna have to forgive him,” I said. “Any crowd more than a handful, and he starts eyeing the exits.”
“Is that right?” Skye asked. “Not big on parties?”
“Gotta be in the right mood,” Adam replied.
“And he’s never in the right mood,” I said with a grin.
“Too bad,” she said. “You look like you’d be fun to dance with.”
Now, I wasn’t entirely positive, but it sure as shit looked like Skye was flirting with Adam. That was fine, not like I had claim on the girl, but I didn’t like it. Though I knew nothing could happen between her and me, the thought of her hooking up with Adam left a bad taste in my mouth.
As I gazed at her, a sliver of jealousy in my mind, she wrapped her lips around her straw, her gaze flicking from me to Adam and back again. And as she did, I couldn’t help but imagine what else I’d like to see those lips around. My cock throbbed in my jeans as I wondered if she knew what she was doing.
You’re her boss, damnit. You’re her fuckin’ boss.
She glanced at me after setting her drink down. “I believe I mentioned the mechanical bull,” she announced without preamble.
“That’s right,” I said, nodding. “You thinkin’ about climbin’ on?”
She laughed, tossing her hair back so I could see the column of her throat. Yeah, I decided, she knows what she’s doin’.
“I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head. “But I do like to watch others,” she hinted, her eyes on mine.
“Wouldn’t mind takin’ that thing for a spin before I get too shit-faced.”
“What I’m interested in,” Skye said, “is which one of you is better at riding that thing.”
“Me.” Adam and I both said at the same time.
Skye raised her eyebrows and laughed. “A couple of competitive types. I like that.”
The girl was young, barely out of college, but she was savvy beyond her years. A few minutes with the two of us, and she was clearly getting a sense of the type of relationship between Adam and me. And yeah, it was a competitive one.
“You could say that,” I agreed. “Not sure how much ‘competition’ there is when I beat his ass at everything we do, though.”
I grinned, and Adam laughed. “Pretty sure it’s the other way around, bud.”
Skye glanced back at the bull, drawing our attention to it just in time to watch it whip off the cowboy who happened to be on it at that moment. He landed in the straw around him with a thud, and a chorus of “ohhs” from the crowd around him could be heard over the music.
“Well.” Skye fixed us with a challenging glance. “There’s only one way to find out. Why don’t you boys give it a shot?”
“Hell,” I said, glancing at Adam. “I’m game.”
“Yeah,” Adam agreed. “Let’s do it.”
Skye grinned, as if more than pleased to watch the two of us butt heads, even if we were doing it in a friendly sort of way. “Go ahead. I’m curious who can hang on the longest.”
There was a definite sexual suggestion in her words, and between how turned on I was and how ready I was to whup Adam’s butt, I felt like a damn caveman.
“Come on, bud,” I said, finishing my beer and giving Adam a slap on the back. “You’re gonna look bad, so might as well get it over with fast.”
“We’ll see,” he said, flashing a quick grin.
“I’ll be watching from the sidelines,” Skye called. “Give me a good show.”
“Don’t you worry about that,” I called. “You’ll have plenty to keep your eyes on.” I winked at her before heading off. If she’s goin’ there, I’m joinin’ the fun.
“Whiskey shots before we try not to break our necks,” Adam announced as we passed the bar.
“You losing your nerve?”
“Nah,” he said chuckling. “It’ll help you losin’ go down easier.”
I laughed as we stopped at the bar and ordered a couple of shots of Jack. We toasted and tossed them back before continuing to the bull. The line went quick – most of the people getting on it were damn near shitfaced and didn’t exactly possess the coordination they’d need to not look like jackasses up there.
Then it was my turn. I dusted my hands on my Levi’s and stepped up to the plate. Or the bull, as it were. The crowd cheered as I climbed on, and once I was in position, I gave the signal to the operator to start the thing.
The bull lurched forward, a big ‘ol grin forming on my lips when it got going. The crowd cheered me on, so I took my hat off my head and whipped it around as the bull bucked hard. I’d ridden a few of these contraptions in my day and had to admit I wasn’t bad at it. But this thing was no joke. It bucked like crazy, my body jerking back and forth as the thing pulled and kicked harder and harder with each passing second.
The crowd counted as I stayed on, the world around me a total blur as I bucked. When they hit ten, I couldn’t hang on any longer. My right hand slipped from the fake fur on the back, and one last buck sent me tumbling ass-over-teakettle into the pile of straw in front of me. I landed on my shoulder, the impact singing out like a whipcrack.
“Awws” sounded from the crowd as I rose to my feet. I wiped a sheen of sweat from my forehead and snatched my hat up from the ground where it had landed.
“Ten seconds!” the operator yelled. “New record!”
Cheers broke out, and I ironically bowed to the audience. It took me a few seconds to get my bearings, but when I finally did, I spotted Adam in the audience, his arms crossed over his big chest. Off in the distance was Skye, still seated at the table, a Mona Lisa smile on her soft lips.
“Not bad,” Adam commented.
“Better than not bad. Like to see you do better.”
He grinned. “Watch me.”
Adam
Nothing like a little competition. And it was clear as a damn church bell on a Sunday morning that the two of us were competing over more than just who could stay on the bull the longest.
Skye was something else. Gorgeous, confident, witty – a hell of a lot to like in a woman. Maybe I was seeing things that weren’t there, but she seemed to take quite a shine to me.
But that in and of itself confused me a little because she was throwing the same starry eyes at Travis that she’d been giving to me. Then again, the girl looked a few vodka cran
berries deep by the time she’d sauntered over to our table. And she was young – maybe too young for a couple of thirty-something old bucks like Travis and me.
I pushed that all out of my head as I headed to the bull.
“Ten seconds!” Travis called, cupping his hand around his mouth to be heard. “Think you can hang on for that long?”
“Managed it with your mama last night,” I said with a grin.
Travis threw back his head and let out a laugh. “Get your ass on that bull and put your money where your mouth is, cowboy.”
I squared up to the bull, the crowd going wild behind me. They must’ve picked up on the little competition between us, feeling like they were in for a good show. I wasn’t much of the showboating type, but I was ready to give them one. Eleven seconds? Easy as a slice of Dutch apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side.
“You ready?” the operator asked as I put my hands on the bull and prepared to mount.
“Ready as hell!” I hollered.
There were more cheers from the crowd as I leapt onto the furry, hard back of the bull. I grabbed the fake hair, my gaze flicking over to Skye. She’d moved from the table and was now standing at Travis’s side among the crowd. The sight of them next to one another got my blood running hot as melted steel. Fucking hell, was I jealous? I’d barely just met the girl, and she had me feeling possessive as shit.
I wanted her like crazy. All I could think about was peeling those skin-tight jeans off her curvy legs, ripping her panties off, and burying my face in what was no doubt one of the finest pussies I’d ever laid eyes on. I bet she tasted sweet, too, the kind of delicious that you’d lick off your lips and go back for seconds. What I wouldn’t give to be on top of that little honey, watching her squirm underneath me as I gave her the pounding of a lifetime.
But I had bigger fish to fry – bigger bulls to ride. I nodded to the operator, and he hit the big red button that started the bull. Another explosion of cheers went up from the crowd as the bull groaned to life.
“Holy hell!” I yelled when the beast got to bucking. The shit was no joke – maybe one of the fiercest “bulls” I’d ever ridden on.