He shook his head in denial. “Nah. She started it by kissing us. She’ll be okay.”
Mason raised a brow. “She kissed us both like a friend. You shoved your tongue in her mouth.”
Clay scowled. “I didn’t
shove
. I’m not Clinton. I don’t force myself on women. You know I would have stopped right away if she wanted me to. Did you see her complaining?”
Mason kicked at the dirt with the toe of his boot. “No.”
“So, then she’ll be fine.”
Mason looked skeptical. “We’ll see.”
“Yes, we will. And stop worrying about everything.
Will Clinton press charges? Will April regret last night?
You sound like an old woman or something.” Clay was a natural optimist and he hated when Mason, Mr. Glass Half Empty, continuously burst his bubble.
Mason scowled at Clay. “Yeah, well while you’re making lists of my worries, let me add something to it. After last night, I’ve been rethinking our plans for the future. About us turning pro and riding on the PRCA circuit.”
“Why? What’s us being with April have to do with the rodeo?” Clay frowned. How the hell could what happened last night have anything to do with him and Mason joining the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association?
Mason rolled his eyes. “Sometimes you don’t use the brains the good Lord gave you. I’m not talking about April. I’m talking about how you walked away with first prize while I ended up with a face full of dirt in under two seconds.”
“Oh. But so what? Everybody has a bad ride once in a while. I have.”
“I seem to have more than my share, Clay, and you know it. I just don’t know if I can make a living at it.”
“We don’t have to make a living at it. We can continue to train horses for money and ride on the side.”
Mason shook his head. “It won’t be like it is now, Clay. To ride pro you’re on the road constantly, pretty much year-round.
You
can make it in that life. You’re more than good enough. Everybody says so. I hear them talking after you come out of the chute. But me, I’m mediocre on a regular basis with a few good rides thrown in.”
It was true that Mason may not be good enough to be the best, but he would be able to rank within the top forty-five pro riders in the country in a few more years. He would at least be able to hold his own in the pros.
Clay opened his mouth to protest but Mason cut him off before he even began. “It’s your dream, Clay. I wish it could be mine too, but you’re right, I’m the worrier of the two of us. Sorry, but I think about things like paying the bills, a steady paycheck and health insurance. I can’t help it.”
Clay couldn’t argue that. Mason had grown up living hand to mouth at times after his daddy got injured and lost his job and his mama had to go to work. “So what will you do?”
Mason’s eyes focused at a point over Clay’s shoulder. “I’ll tell you later. April’s parents are coming out of the house. We better look like we just got here.”
And they had better be convincing, that was for damn sure, because this time, unlike the many other perfectly innocent nights they’d spent in April’s bed, her daddy had good reason to shoot them. Clay kept that fact in mind as her father questioned them about how they’d ridden the night before and how his horses had performed.
They assured him they would feed and water the stock and turn them out, and then muck the stalls. After receiving those assurances, the unsuspecting couple was off to church, leaving a still-sleeping April and two very guilty cowboys behind.
Thinking about April still lying, soft and warm in her bed, Clay watched her parents’ car turn onto the road and added one more thing to his personal to-do list. He’d do all of his chores, but then he was heading directly home, locking himself in the bathroom and taking care of this ache that one small taste of April had left him with.
Chapter Five
Mason sat beneath the baking-hot noonday sun and watched the procession of graduates in their caps and gowns walk one by one up to the podium to receive their diplomas.
Rather than be the only one standing up there without a cap and gown, he’d gotten his that morning privately in the principal’s office. He wouldn’t have even bothered coming to the ceremony now except that he was there to see April and Clay graduate. Their parents had the money to rent the stupid cap and gown, while Mason couldn’t see clear to asking his folks to pay for something that seemed like such a waste. He’d used half of his last paycheck for the rodeo entry fee and most of all his other pay went to help support his household, or pay for gas when they borrowed a vehicle to drive to competitions.
Clay, being Clay, had offered to pay for Mason’s cap and gown with part of his prize winnings, but Mason’s pride wouldn’t let him accept that. Besides, it would have been too late to place the order with the rental company anyway. The deadline for rentals was over a week ago.
The one unforeseen benefit of being in the audience, instead of in the long line of graduating seniors waiting to receive their diplomas, was that Mason had an unobstructed view of Clinton as he made his way up to the podium. Apparently, one or the other of them had done some damage to Clinton’s ribs the other night, judging by how gingerly he took the document from the principal and dodged to avoid the hearty one-armed hug the man had given all the other graduates.
Mason had a dim recollection of kicking Clinton as the bastard curled in a ball on the ground, right about the time Clay had pulled him away. He allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction, while at the same time realizing they both could have easily ended up in jail for assault, especially considering who Clinton’s daddy was. But they hadn’t.
Absently, Mason wondered what Clinton had told good old Dad about the bruises on his face. He probably said some gang had attacked and robbed him. Definitely not the truth, which was that he’d tried to take advantage of an innocent girl and paid the price for that mistake.
Meanwhile, April had been wearing long-sleeved T-shirts in the heat to hide the bruises on her arms, and she’d had to cover the split in her lip with makeup. It didn’t seem fair she had to bear the brunt of Clinton being an asshole.
Mason snapped to attention when he noticed it was April’s turn to go up, her cap balanced atop the expanse of tightly curled, long, blond hair. Mason remembered the feel of that hair beneath his hands as he’d grabbed her head to kiss her that one night. The event hadn’t been repeated in the days that followed. In fact, things had been a little strained between them, exactly as he’d feared.
Oh, she hadn’t said anything to them to let them know how she felt. Maybe that was the problem. They didn’t talk about it. Not one word. The three of them simply ignored that anything had happened at all. She was friendly, even while she took every opportunity to avoid being alone with them again, which is what led Mason to believe April regretted the whole thing. If it cost them their friendship, Mason would regret it too.
He watched as she glided to the podium, accepted the diploma and the kiss on the cheek from the principal and glided back. Once Clay went up, Mason was out of there. All the other kids would be meeting their families to go out to lunch. It was tradition. He didn’t want anyone to take notice that not only had he not gone up, but he had no family there either. He’d lied and said he didn’t want to participate and convinced his parents it was silly for them to come since he wasn’t in the procession. Besides, his mama had to work today anyway.
Half the people probably assumed he didn’t graduate at all, that he’d failed a class or something. Let them. What did he care? By the end of summer, when assholes like Clinton were off and killing time in college, he’d be gone.
Given that Mason was itching to get the hell away from this ceremony, it would be his luck that Clay would graduate almost dead last. They’d apparently lined up in height order and Clay was tall.
He watched Clay accept the diploma and then rose to leave, but by the time Mason got out of his row and through the throngs of people congratulating the graduates, April was in front of him, smiling. “You came.”
Mason smiled down at her, her cheeks all flushed with excitement, her blue eyes twinkling, making his heart skip a beat. “Of course I did. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
“Come to lunch with me and my parents.”
This was exactly what he didn’t want, a pity invite. “Nah, I got things I have to do at home.”
“Okay. But meet me and Clay at the lake as soon as it gets dark. He says he has a graduation surprise for us.”
Mason couldn’t help but smile at her excitement. Maybe the awkwardness of the last few days was finally over. “Okay. I’ll be there.”
“There are my parents. I have to go. See ya later.”
He nodded, counting the hours until dark and realizing as he watched her walk away from him that he was in very grave danger of having it real bad for that girl.
***
It wasn’t hard to find Clay at the lake. He was camped out in the same spot they always met, and had been meeting, for five years now. Only this time there was a blanket laid out on the ground, short, fat, lit candles tucked in the grass and two bottles of champagne sticking out of a red plastic cooler filled with ice.
Mason raised a brow. “Aw, Clay, how romantic. You shouldn’t have.”
Clay rolled his eyes. “It’s for April. Well, we’ll enjoy drinking the champagne too, but the rest of this stuff…”
Was designed to get Clay into April’s pants again
, Mason finished Clay’s sentence in his head.
Mason wasn’t sure if this orchestrated seduction was pissing him off or a really good idea. As he tried to decide, April showed up, her smile lit by the candlelight as she took in the scene. “Wow. You guys did all this?”
Mason opened his mouth to protest that Clay had done all this alone when his friend jumped in and answered her. “Sure did. Have a seat, darlin’. Get comfortable.”
Clay popped the first cork, poured them all a plastic cup full and then held his cup high in the air. “To the three of us.”
“The three of us,” April echoed, holding up her own cupful.
Those simple words had all new meaning after the other night. The worst part was, repeating what they’d done together then was all he could think about tonight. Mason raised his cup silently and downed the contents in a single gulp.
Not sure if Clay had noticed his empty cup, or if his goal was simply to get them all drunk, Mason allowed him to pour another. Clay refilled April’s cup and then his own as well.
They continued to down the bubbly, chatting casually about nothing important, until the first bottle was empty and they were well into the second one.
After many more refills, April was holding up her cup and proposing the toast this time. “To never having to see that bastard Clinton’s face in class again. And nice bruises by the way. Good job, guys.”
Mason paused, his champagne halfway to his lips. April was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol. This was the first time she’d mentioned, or even alluded to what had happened that night with Clinton.
Clay accepted the compliment. “Thank you, ma’am.” He downed the remaining contents of his cup and flopped back onto the blanket, the back of his head landing on April’s thigh. “How can such a sissy drink make a person feel so drunk?”
April leaned back on her elbows, face tilted to gaze at the night sky. “I know why. I was so full from having lunch with my parents that I didn’t have any dinner.”
Clay laughed, rolling his head on April’s leg to grin up at her. “Come to think of it, I didn’t eat dinner either. Hmm. That makes me feel better, at least. Thought I was turning into a lightweight.”
Both of their voices were starting to show signs of intoxication.
Having skipped lunch, Mason had eaten a big dinner. Stretched out on the blanket and leaning back on his elbows, he realized he was definitely the most sober of the three by far. Not that he minded them being drunk, especially when April leaned heavily against his body.
It may have been shitty of him considering she was intoxicated, but when April slumped down and laid her head on his chest, then ran her hand absently up and down his stomach, he didn’t object. Far from it. Instead, he leaned down and gently kissed the top of her hair.
She tilted her head up, gazed into his eyes and then touched her lips ever so softy to his before lowering her head again to rest against him. Which was when her hand strayed lower, down over the zipper in his jeans, to settle on his growing erection.
Mason’s heart rate sped up. She would definitely feel it through his thin cotton shirt as clearly as she must feel the outline of his hard-on below.
Almost afraid to breathe and scare her away from touching him, he didn’t move a muscle. He watched with rapt fascination as her delicate fingers fumbled slightly as she tried to undo the single button one-handed. He wanted to help her by stripping off the damn restrictive jeans, but he didn’t. Finally successful with the button, she lowered the zipper with a rasp of metal that sounded much too loud to him in the darkness.
Clay heard it too, and turned his head to look. When he saw April in the midst of freeing Mason’s cock from his boxer briefs, he groaned. Sitting up on his knees, Clay unbuttoned April’s khaki shorts, slid them down her legs, over her feet and flip-flops and laid them on the far corner of the blanket.