WRECKER: A Bad Boy Cowboy Romance (A steamy billionaire romance story) (9 page)

I
drop
Chastity off at her house, and we kiss again. It’s too hard to pull away. This girl tastes like candy, like the best whiskey, like an angel, and the softness of her lips leads directly to the hardness of my cock.

“Call me?” she says, tilting her head to the side.

“Definitely.” I kiss her once more, my thumb caressing her cheek, before letting her go. She smiles, hops out the door, and up the lane. Still grinning, she leans against her front door and holds up the keys to tell me I can leave, but I wait until she closes the door behind her. I did want to spend the night with her, more than anything—but if I had I’d need to leave early. It’s not time yet for us to have that kind of morning. The little kids need me tomorrow and I have to ride tomorrow night. But it’s damned tempting to see her standing there, one leg bent, her shirt still falling off her shoulder.

As much as I tell myself it might be because of the kids or whatever, I’m not sure I trust myself with this girl. I can barely keep myself contained around her, and it’s been a long time since I lost my cool. I don’t want to be wrapped around anyone’s finger, not even if it belongs to a gorgeous dark-haired, sweet-assed Canadian girl.

I made my life to be solitary for a reason. Precisely because other people can’t be trusted. She’s right that we don’t know each other. Not one lick. We’ve only been hanging out a day, and I already feel like I love her. How is that even possible? It can’t be. Part of me says don’t analyze it, just accept it, but the other part says run, you motherfucker. It’s an illusion. And a dangerous one.

The other part tells me to run to her.

When that cheerleader told me I was good enough to fuck but not for anything more, a certain part of me hardened—and it wasn’t that part that women usually come to me for. My heart hardened to protect itself. If I’m not good enough to be someone’s man, why would I allow them the option to reject me? Since then I just ended up using the girls that came my way. The problem is that things start off just fine, with us both wanting a little fling, but it always ends up that they want me, and I don’t want them. Especially once they find out just how much money is in my pocket. Reality gets the better of me and I leave them while they cry and beg me to reconsider.

I reckon that this experience is more dangerous because it might just be the opposite. She’s just as likely to fall in love for a little while, before she realizes that I’m not the kind of man she’s looking for. Or, she’ll move back to Canada, and I’ll be that cowboy she fucked in Texas. A story to tell herself on cold nights.

Maybe I have the strength to ride this out, for the glorious moment that it could be, and then leave it? Or, who the fuck knows, maybe it’s already over. Just a one-night, beautiful, amazing thing. One and done. And we both look back on it with happiness.

No regrets.

But when I think of that sweet look in those dark eyes, that swath of hair falling down the side of her face as she tilts her head and looks at me so innocently, I know she’s too damned hard to resist.

I just don’t want to fall in too deep.

I rub my forehead with my hand and then put the truck in gear—it’s time to drive off into the Texas night. The stars that tickled my eyes earlier are behind clouds now, and it’s darker than it was before. I guess it might rain.

“
A
re you riding tonight
, Kanen?” one of the boys asks me.

“I sure am, champ,” I grin. “I ride every Saturday night. Just about.”

“When I grow up I’m going to ride bulls,” another boy says with conviction in his fluty voice. “And I’m going to stay on his back forever!”

“You know, Damien, I’d like to see that,” I grin. “In fact I’d like to do that, but those bulls are pretty tough and powerful, and if they don’t want you on them, then it’s not easy to persuade them to let you stay there.”

“But you can do it,” Damien says, a pout starting on his face.

“I can do it for a certain amount of time, but you know that the bull is always gonna win. That’s the law of the land.”

“I bet you could stay on forever.” He doesn’t look happy. His face is screwing up, getting ready for some waterworks.

“No way!” says the other boy. “Kanen’s good, but even he says the bull is better!” His tone is scoffing. He shoots a look at me, trying to win my approval.

“Kanen is the Wrecker! He can do anything!” The tenor of little Damien’s voice has gotten even more shrill and upset. I guess I know what it’s like to need something to believe in that badly. I can see where this is going and I reckon I’ll head them off at the pass.

“Look Damien, how ‘bout we talk about this later? I want you to show me what you can do in the gym. What do you say we shoot a few hoops?” I ruffle his hair, and turn toward the gym building.

“Okay,” he grumbles. “But you can do anything, right Kanen?”

“I
am
the best, but I can’t do everything.” I grin at him and chuck him under the chin, looking at the hero worship in his eyes. That’s dangerous, but when you’re in his situation, it feels so good to believe in somebody. Anybody, really. Even a no-good bull rider who struck gold one day. Little does he know how many people let me down, and all the people I let down along the way. Real life—I guess it doesn’t have to hit him just yet. Hopefully ever. “But I don’t mind trying. Who knows, I think you’ll be able to beat my time one day.”

“You think?” His voice is awestruck. “I hope I can.”

“Well the main thing you always have to remember is to respect the bull,” I tell him. “That is the number one key to success. You need to pay homage to that ton of muscle between your legs, because all you are is a couple of hundred pounds of meat on top.”

“I guess so.” His eyes are wide and look faraway.

We all stroll into the gym and I grab a basketball, faking and then throwing it at the first boy’s stomach, and he quickly closes his hands around it and makes a long shot for the basket.

“Three pointer!” I say, and he turns around, beaming and pumping his fist.

“Thanks, Kanen,” he says. “I’m Ricky, by the way. I just came here this week. Did you know it’s not just Damien, but all the boys talk about you like you’re some kind of God?”

“Well that’s nice to hear, but don’t be fooled,” I tell him. “I’m just a regular cowboy.”

“But you’re one of us, right? You have some of our blood?”

“That I do. Not a hundred percent, but the part I’m most proud of.”

I don’t like to talk about this subject, but I will, because I don’t want to pass on the shame that was handed down to me over generations. I fight against the feeling that I was taught by my mama, that I’m supposed to hate myself, to give up, but it seems that it’s almost part of myself now, even if I can never accept it. It’s complex.

The boy nods. “Me too, I’m proud of it too,” he adds quickly, but in a less than convincing way.

That’s all right, I figure. You have to fake it to make it. At least I hope I will someday. I still am pissed at the people who tried to take my pride. Not that they have all that much to be proud of themselves. Motherfuckers.

While we’re talking, Damien grabs the ball from the ground and chucks it at me, and I catch it with one hand, and do a layup at the net. It’s been awhile, but I fly through the steps and slam dunk it at the end. The kids cheer, and I pass the ball after the rebound to Ricky, who makes his own shot. It falls short, but he quickly scoops it up and shoots again, and the second time it goes in.

“Nice recovery,” I grin.

“That’s what it’s all about. That’s what they taught us. It doesn’t matter if you fall,” he recites. “As long as you get up after you fall down.”

Hmm. Maybe so. That’s what I’ve built my life on, anyway. Giving the finger to those people who tried to drag me down, and to leverage my resources so that I can do whatever I damn well please. Canada’s face swims in front of my eyes. I wouldn’t mind seeing her tonight, but I think I might hold off on calling her. Might be better to keep my distance. I may be falling for Canada, but I’m going to get back up just as many times as I fall.

A
text comes
in from Lacey. “Girl, where were you last night? I told you was going to come by and bring your tips, but you never answered your phone.”

I’m eating ice cream, and my spoon pauses in midair. She’s right. Crap. I completely bailed on her. After I got inside last night, I realized there were three texts from Lacey and two calls. I guess she came by with my money, ready to hear the story about the Wrecker, and I was out with him already.

“Sorry,” I type quickly. “I went out after all.”

“Who did you go out with?” Her answer comes lightning-fast.

Argh. I struggle with whether I should tell her or not. If I do tell her I went out with Kanen, she’ll go nuts and demand details. But she also knows that I don’t have too many other friends in the city, and she’ll probably see right through me if I lie.

I guess I should just bite the bullet and give her the scoop. “If you must know, I went out with Kanen.”

“Whoa, I was hoping you would say that,” she writes. “What are you doing right now? Can I come over?”

“Sure.”

“You don’t have any surprise plans with him tonight?” I can almost hear the sarcasm in her text.

“Nope, but I’ll let you know if anything changes between now and when you arrive.”

“You better,” she writes back. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” There’s a pause. Then, “And this time, you better tell me everything. I’m bringing wine.”

Exactly as I feared. All well. Still, it might be nice to talk about what’s going on with Kanen. When I woke up this morning I was a little shocked at myself, remembering what we had done. As amazing as it was, I’ve never been the kind of girl who has sex on the first date. Much less the first week I meet somebody. I was a virgin before Jeffrey and haven’t had anyone besides him. Until now. And what’s really freaking me out is that Kanen hasn’t called or texted. I’m not sure why; maybe it’s because I didn’t invite him to spend the night. But he didn’t seem very keen to do so, and I thought maybe we should put the brakes on things before it got too out of hand. Maybe that was a big mistake.

What if he thinks of me as a one-night stand?

What if I think of him as one?

Maybe it’s good that Lacey is coming over—maybe she’ll give me some much-needed perspective on what’s going on with Kanen. And also, maybe she can help me think of an excuse to quit my job, one that won’t piss everyone off. There’s no way I want to go back into that torture chamber for feet they call a restaurant, but if they’re counting on me I would feel bad to leave them in the lurch. And Lacey was nice enough to recommend me. I hope she’s not upset.

I give the house a quick once-over, tossing any evidence of my budding obsession with Kanen into my room. I hide the rodeo program that has his face on the cover, the flowers he picked for me as we were leaving last night. Even my makeup sitting out from when I got ready for my date. Lacey’s just got that kind of mind that fixates on every single detail that’s out of place, and I’d rather try to make sure she knows only what I want her to know. To be in control. But one glance at the cover of the rodeo program, and I’m already lost. He just looks so incredible, his dark eyes, his dark hair, that black hat shading his scowl. That tattoo that so perfectly brings out the lines of his shoulder, so broad and powerful. The bull that goes across his chest. I’m overcome for a moment and I kiss the page before blushing bright red and tossing the program under my pillow.

It’s just in time, as the buzzer goes off. I run down the stairs and open the door to Lacey.

“Here it is, I brought your favorite,” Lacey says, holding up some Barefoot wine. “I’m hoping it’ll work like truth serum.” Her grin is infectious, and I’m suddenly glad she’s shown up.

“You should be some kind of interrogator,” I laugh. “I can’t keep anything from you, can I?”

“I hope not!” Lacey grins. “Let’s go upstairs.”

* * *

A
fter two glasses of wine
, just as I expected, I open up myself to Lacey and tell her everything. Every detail, and each one seems more shocking to her as I went on. How we went to that special place in the woods by the lake, how we drank champagne but left the steak and potato salad since things progressed, and how he went down on me before we had mind-blowing sex. I finish off telling her that he dropped me off at home.

“Okay, stop right there,” she says, putting her hand out, palm facing me. “Let me get this straight.”
Uh-oh
, I think,
things don’t sound too good already
. “He didn’t even take you out to dinner?” Her eyebrows are coming together in what looks like shock and awe. “He took you to some
pond
? And you guys fucked, then he didn’t even stay the night?”

“Well I didn’t see it quite like that,” I say. “I think the place is really special to him? Or something? Plus he brought a beautiful bottle of champagne, and he had dinner made for us.”

“Yeah, real special.” Lacey sounds pissed. “He got you drunk and banged you at a pond. I don’t know if you realize this, but Kanen has money. He’s not your regular average guy even if he does drive an old beater truck. He can afford to take you out for dinner, and show you a good time. I would expect that he would take you to the nicest restaurant in the city.” She’s scowling. “This is not what I would have expected from him at all, and I think you should be pissed as well. A pond!”

“But you know that I don’t care about stuff like that.” Oh God. Is she right? I’m starting to wonder. It’s true, I don’t care about those sorts of trappings, but I hope the date doesn’t somehow mean that he thinks less of me.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re into it or not, he should do it anyway,” Lacey says, reflecting my thoughts. She stands up, warming to the subject. “It’s supposed to show you that he takes you seriously and doesn’t just see you as some kind of hooker. A pump-and-dump!” Her eyes are flashing and she’s waving her wine glass around dangerously.

“Hooker?” I’m puzzled. “Wait a second, if he spent a lot of money on me for dinner, wouldn’t that make me more of a hooker?”

She scoffs. “Oh Chastity, you have soooo much to learn.” She’s shaking her head now. “And I have so little time to teach you.”

“I know I’m not very experienced when it comes to men, but I find it hard to believe that I’m doing everything wrong.”

I mean, I was married. I didn’t fuck that one up, so why is this so bad? Or did I fuck it up? Jeffrey did say he didn’t love me anymore.

“Yeah me too—I’m surprised to realize you’re doing everything wrong as well,” she retorts. “Men are pretty simple, Chastity. They don’t chase what they already have. You’re supposed to make a guy wait until he acts like you want him to act, before you reward him with anything. Especially sex. That’s the big one!”

“But sex isn’t supposed to be some kind of reward,” I say, embarrassed that my mind flew to something else completely when she said “the big one.” “Sex is supposed to be a thing you do together. Something you share!”

“Yeah, okay, that may be true, but that’s
after
you’ve been together for a while. If you give it away too early, they never take you seriously.” Lacey takes another sip of wine and looks at me sternly over the glass. She sits down across from me again. “You should count yourself very lucky to have me,” she says. “But it might be too late for this particular bronco.”

“Too late?”

“Yeah. Like, has he even gotten in touch with you today?” I don’t want to face the judgment in her eyes, but I have to tell her the truth.

“Well, no.”
Kanen, why haven’t you called
? I think. She’s right.

“Checkmate!” she says. “See? You screwed up big time already, and all because you were too available. You went out with him the very night he asked, he didn’t even take you to a good place, and then you guys did it. On the dirty old ground! Just tell me you didn’t give him a blowjob.”

“Um, no,” I say, faltering. “I sure didn’t.” To me it had all seemed really romantic, having sex out there in the wilderness. By a lake. With champagne. And he went down on me. I didn’t think of it as just “fucking on the ground.”

“You’re sure?” she says. I think she’s lost all respect for me. And maybe Kanen has too.

“I’m sure,” I say. This is dismal. “Maybe you’re right, maybe I should have hung out with you last night instead of him.” Dammit. Why did I go out with him? Why didn’t I listen to Lacey? Why did I listen to myself? All I wanted to do last night was hang out in front of the tube and get my ice cream on.

“Of course you should have,” she says, magnanimously. “Maybe things are different where you’re from, but down in Texas the boys all want one thing. And if you give it to them right away, that’s all they’ll ever want.” She nods to herself, her eyes faraway.

“Really?” I ask.

Maybe it’s true. Maybe Texas is completely different. Well, not completely. I think the guys up in Canada were always pretty crazy into sex too. I just never gave it to any of them—except for Jeffrey. And I didn’t rush into it with him either, but I know now that that was because I wasn’t all that physically attracted to him. Maybe Lacey’s right. Maybe things are the same all over. And I’ve just completely screwed up. Dammit.

“Well, now we’re going to need to strategize,” Lacey says. “Very first thing is you don’t get in touch with him,” she says. “No texts, no phone calls, don’t try to run into him somewhere, and if he shows up at the restaurant, I’ll serve him.”

“Even if he shows up at the restaurant?” I say. “That’s hardcore, Lace. And also, I should tell you, I was thinking of quitting.”

She smacks herself in the forehead with the palm of her hand. “Oh, Chastity, you are one hot mess.”

I take a lonely sip of my wine, and stare off into space. Maybe she’s right. My new life seems more hopeless than the one I left in garbage bags up north.

“Aww. Don’t look so glum, chum,” she says, finally relenting. “If it’s salvageable, we’ll save it. How much of a relationship can you have with a guy called ‘the Wrecker,’ anyway? And if we can’t fix it, then we’ll figure out a way for you to meet other dudes.”

I can hardly believe it, but when she says that, my heart drops into my chest. It’s a quick and sudden pain, but it hurts almost more than the ache of losing Jeffrey. With Jeffrey, it was the life we built together that I was going to miss, and he was obviously a big part of that. With Kanen, it’s the chance for real happiness that I’m losing.