Authors: Emily Cale
He stifled a laugh. At least the woman wasn’t shy about eating. “It’s only nowhere if you don’t know where you are.” It sounded corny, but he’d practiced the response at least a dozen times. He got asked that question a lot. When he’d left pro rodeo, he took his time deciding where to finally settle down. He’d visited a lot of places but only liked a few. This was one of the few places he was truly comfortable. The fast-paced life he’d been a part of for so many years had always felt forced. As hard as he tried to pretend it was home, he always had one foot back on his family’s ranch. Here, life was simple. The minute he woke up, he knew exactly what he would be doing for the rest of the day. Didn’t make it any easier to explain to folks why he’d moved somewhere without a Starbucks or a mall.
“Well, I certainly couldn’t find this town on a map.” She sat back and relaxed into the couch cushions.
“Give it time. You’ll figure it out.” He took a long sip from his glass, allowing the alcohol to warm his throat.
“Maybe I don’t want to.” She crossed her arms, struggling to figure out how to put them together.
He tried to calculate how much alcohol he’d given her. Her frame was slight, but he still expected her to tolerate the whiskey a little better. “Then why are you here in the first place?”
“I needed a good place to practice before Frontier Days.”
He hummed in understanding. “Your normal spot wasn’t good enough anymore?”
“Too many distractions. Besides, I share my training space there. I need all the time I can get.”
He waited to see if she would expand, tell him about the terrifying fall that undoubtedly had shaken her and sent her running to his ranch. “I see. So, you find your focus here?”
She leaned in and snatched a few more chips. “Not quite, but I’m working on it.”
Not as far as he could tell. The longer she waited to push herself back into training, the harder it would be. She’d succumbed to her fears, and if she wouldn’t even look under the bed, there was no way she’d ever be able to fight her monsters. He’d seen too many men go through it before. One minute they were on top, the next…well, they wound up running a ranch in a town no one had ever heard of. “I see. Do you have a better plan for tomorrow? Some way to find that focus of yours?”
“I don’t see how that is any of your business.” Amber picked up her glass again, looking disappointed when she realized it was empty.
“It’s not. I’m just making polite conversation.” He reached forward and poured a little more into his own glass, the offered the bottle to her. When she nodded, he filled her glass, too. It wasn’t his job to make sure she controlled herself. She took a small sip, then leaned back, her head falling to the side. “You okay?”
“Yeah, why do you ask?” She sat up halfway before falling back again.
“You seem a tad out of it. Maybe that’s enough for the night.”
She picked up her cup and drank the remaining fluid. “So, you sleeping with the owner?”
His eyes widened as he took in her question. Remembering she had no idea what his real position was, he tried to act calm and collected. “What?”
“I mean, this place is nicer than the space I’m staying in, and I’m paying top dollar.”
That she was. The ranch could use every spare penny it could get, and her room and board offered up quite a few shiny pieces of copper. Though he wouldn’t be opposed to starting something with her. “No, I’m not.”
She leaned toward him, resting her elbows on the coffee table and cradling her chin in her hands. “Who are you sleeping with, then?”
“I’m not sure that’s any of your business.” Her words were slurred, so it took him a moment to make out what she was saying. The alcohol was supposed to loosen her up, make conversation flow a little easier. Now he was wondering if she’d even make it another ten minutes without passing out.
“Then you aren’t sleeping with anyone?” Standing up, she fumbled her way around the coffee table, keeping her hand on the edge to maintain her balance. Plopping down next to him, she slid as close as she could get, her knee rubbing up against his.
He didn’t answer. Simply sipped from his drink and tried to focus his thoughts away from her body. It was a difficult task, especially when he could smell her perfume, the scent of peaches barely detectable over the horse and ranch smells that had made their way onto the fabric of her clothes.
“I’ll take that as a no. So the real question now is why the cowboy can’t seem to bed a cowgirl.” Leaning her head against his shoulder, she moved the hand closest to him onto his knee and slowly made her way up to the middle of his thigh.
His cock started to twitch, and he shifted in his seat until his pants loosened enough to make him comfortable. It’d been a long time. Far longer than he was willing to admit even to himself. Now, a sexy woman was sitting next to him, her hand practically on his crotch. He took in a deep breath and concentrated on the conversation. “Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“Don’t try to get out of answering the question. Why aren’t you out banging some chick? Can’t get it up?” Her hand moved closer to his erection. Smiling, she ran her hand along the fly of his pants.
Jumping a little, he let her rub up and down his length for a minute. “I’m perfectly capable of—you know what, I’m not going to answer that question for you.”
“Really? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure you already answered. That, or you have some extra socks.” She stared down at him, her hand continuing to trace his erection. “Well, which one is it?”
“You know, I think you might have to find that out for yourself.” A few drinks were all it took to get her out of her shell. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it; he just felt like the whole thing was fake. If it weren’t for the drinks, she wouldn’t give him the time of day. He’d been around enough big-time rodeo girls to know that they only had an eye for one thing: famous bull riders. Of course, they’d usually settle for a bareback rider if the conditions were right. Out here, her choices were limited, and the liquor was free.
Reaching across, he set a hand on her thigh, the heat from her skin radiating through her jeans. He’d give anything to feel her silky skin rubbing against his, sweat serving as a lubricant as they allowed themselves to give into their urges.
“Is that an invitation?” Her fingers toyed with his belt, slowly pulling back the clasp.
It’d be so easy to let her continue. How long had it been since anyone other than him had wrapped her hand tightly around his cock? Jumping up, he allowed her palm to fall to the couch. She was drunk. Very drunk. As much as he wanted it, he couldn’t take advantage of the situation.
“You don’t want me? I’m not good enough for you?” She looked up at him, pure shock on her face.
“I think you should go to bed.” She’d hate herself in the morning, but at least she wouldn’t hate him too. “Come on.” He reached out and helped her up, holding her entire body with his arm. She was dead weight, leaning back toward the couch and dangling herself from his hand. She clearly wasn’t up for walking. Instead, he scooped her up and held her close to his body. Instantly, she nuzzled her head up against his shoulder. The whole way down the hall, she kept running her hands over his chest.
Why did she have to make this so difficult? His cock already hated him for refusing what might be his one chance at a little love for a long time. Instead, he was putting her to sleep in his bed, then returning to the living room to crash on the couch. If this was some sort of test, he was struggling to pass.
He moved into the bedroom and set her down on the bed and peeled back the covers enough for her to slip her legs underneath. “Go to sleep.”
“Wouldn’t you like to join me?” She shimmied beneath the covers, parting her legs as though she expected him to crawl between them.
Yes. God, yes.
“I think it would be best if we both slept alone tonight.” The words sounded foreign, like someone else was saying them in his voice.
She pouted for a moment, then rolled over and closed her eyes. Within a few seconds, her breathing slowed, and he could hear the slightest hint of snoring. Shaking his head, he turned out the light and left her in the room.
His swollen cock ached, reminding him that after all that work, he still hadn’t gotten the relief he craved. Sighing, he headed for the shower.
Chapter Three
The minute she opened her eyes, Amber regretted the decision. Her head throbbed, and she grabbed a pillow to block out the blinding light. What did she do last night? Swallowing against her nausea, the details of the night became clear. Did she really throw herself at Colt? She reached beneath the covers and breathed a sigh of relief to find that she was still completely dressed. She couldn’t decide whether to be thankful he’d kept his wits or offended he’d turned her down. No one ever turned her down. Especially not when she was drunk and begging to be fucked. Maybe what she really needed was a little stress relief. He might annoy the hell out of her, but he looked like he could more than handle himself in bed.
Raising her head off the pillow, she glanced around the room. Alone. Was he already up? Had he even slept in here last night?
She swung her legs onto the floor and stood up. Placing her palm against the wall, she squeezed her eyes closed and breathed deeply until the dizziness passed. Training with a hangover didn’t sound like fun, but she’d already wasted one day and couldn’t afford to lose another. Amber made her way over to the door and pulled it open a crack. She peeked out and listened for any sign of him. Nothing. Quietly, she slipped through the opening and dashed toward the bathroom.
“About time you got your lazy ass out of bed.”
Caught, she froze, one hand on the doorknob to the bathroom. She had hoped to clean up enough to slip out and back to her room without him noticing. Words, especially ones in the form of an apology, weren’t her strong point. Avoidance, on the other hand, was an event she wished were competitive because she’d be a contender for first place. “I’ll be out in a minute.” She ducked into the bathroom, shut the door, and locked it. Relieved, she made her way to the sink. The sight of her reflection in the mirror made her shudder. Mascara ran from the bottom of her eyes to her cheekbones, her hair resembled a bird’s nest, and deep lines stretched across her cheeks from the pillow she’d slept on. How was she supposed to face him looking like this?
Running water, she splashed her face and scrubbed until the black smudges disappeared. She raked her fingers through her hair, attempting to tame the wild strands. Stepping back to admire her work, she sighed. The lines would have to go away on their own, and the only thing that would fix the mess on top her head was a shower and a flat iron. For now, it was good enough. He’d been drinking too; maybe he was in a similar condition.
Cautiously opening the door, she made her way to the living room. Colt sat on one of the couches and held a big mug of coffee out to her. “This might help take the edge off.”
Damn. He looked refreshed and as sexy as yesterday. “Thanks.” Taking the coffee, she sat down on the other sofa. Simply smelling the liquid improved her headache. The first sip made her whole body begin to feel better. Now if he only he would whip up a big plate of hash browns.
He picked up his own cup and leaned back. “Sleep well?” His tone mocked her current state.
“Fine, thank you. I appreciate you letting me stay here.” She couldn’t actually remember going to bed but assumed he’d offered his bed and she hadn’t simply taken it over.
“Let you?” He laughed. “How did you expect me to get you back to your place in that condition? Of course, you also wanted some other things.” Colt winked at her.
She glared at him. If he wasn’t so damn sexy, she wouldn’t even consider putting up with his crap. “You want an apology? Is that what you are hinting for?” She took another sip of her coffee and tried to wash away the disgusting taste in her mouth. She’d give anything for some toothpaste and a toothbrush.
“No need. Can’t blame you for wanting to get with this.” He motioned toward his body.
She nearly choked on the liquid in her mouth. “The only reason last night occurred is because I drank a little too much alcohol.” That was an understatement. She’d lost count of how many she had actually had, but given her current state, it was more than a couple.
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “You’re telling me that there is no way you would consider sleeping with me if whiskey wasn’t involved?” He stared at her, eyes sparkling.
“Yep.” She sat back in her seat, keeping her head up high enough, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Every time she looked straight at him, she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d slept next to her last night, his hips pressed against her ass. She suspected he was too much of a gentleman to pull a stunt like that, but a girl could dream.