by Jessa James
He stepped back. “Sorry.”
Colt turned around and led her horse to its stall, pulling the saddle and blanket off.
“I’ll groom my horse,” she said.
He came around her horse to hand her a curry brush, giving her a tight smile. “Okay.”
He moved to unsaddle his own horse. Rose ran the brush over her horse’s withers, then over the back and croup.
She glanced at Colt and couple of times while she was grooming the horse, wondering at his attitude. Was this what he meant when he said they’d be friends?
When they were finished, they sat by the open barn door, on some square hay bales left there to dry out. Silence stretched between them at they stared outside.
“The rain is pretty serious,” he said, squinting out into the rain-darkened sky.
“Yeah. I’m not sure how long it will go,” she said, shivering. She was wet from the rain, and now that she wasn’t riding, she was getting cold.
He pinned her with a look.
“We should go, even though it’s still raining. I’m sure you have things to do.”
She wrinkled her nose, but shrugged. “Sure.”
Rose stood, brushing straw off her legs.
“I’ll see you in a couple days. I have to work on the ranch before then,” he said.
“Hazel,” she said.
“What?”
“Your eyes. I just realized that they’re…” she stopped, realizing she sounded nuts. “Um, yeah. That sounds good.”
“Do you want me to go get an umbrella for you?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. See you later.”
And with that, she plunged into the thunderstorm, headfirst. She raced to her car as fast as she could, climbing in and turning on the heat.
She looked behind her. Colt stood in the pouring rain, watching her.
Making sure she was safe.
She bit her lip, then turned the car around. By the time that she pulled out of the driveway, Colt was gone.
As she drove home, the rain slowed, but her heart still beat fast.
16
Colt woke early, longing.
He’d dreamt that he’d had Rose, that they were naked together in his bed, him on top. That he moved with perfect timing, thrusting in a way that made her moan.
That her hands clawed his back, her core fluttering in the way that told him she was about to come. The look of ecstasy on her face as she writhed beneath him, desperate…
And then he woke up.
Hard as fucking steel, he put a pillow over his face and shouted his frustrations into it.
He’d masturbated last night… twice. Just to settle down enough to sleep, he’d needed to think of her riding him, of him fucking her until she called out his name over and over.
And the second time just the same, but slower.
It was like she was an enchantress, working her magic on him. Except her spell was just being herself, no matter how awkward.
He got up and took an icy shower, which managed to dampen his libido enough that he could comfortably put on pants. He dressed quickly, cursing the fact he had to go help her today.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help, it was all the other things his traitorous body wanted to do that made him miserable.
If he was ever going to have a chance in hell of having Rose, she was going to have to come to him. She was going to have to desire him, say that she wanted him.
Otherwise… a few more days of free labor, and he was done.
He was in a sour mood all the way to Rose’s. His missing foot ached and tingled, like a phantom limb. He kept tapping it against the truck’s brakes, the sensation the only way he could remember that his foot was gone.
When he got to the clinic, Rose was already there. She turned and smiled when she saw him. “Hey.”
He wanted to pull his current mood around himself like a thick blanket, hide in it, but it wasn’t her fault. Or mostly not, anyway.
Plus, there was the fact that she was wearing a pair of very short denim shorts. Probably borrowed from Shelby, they showcased her legs in a mile-long stretch of suntanned skin. It was really fucking hard to be mad at those legs.
“Hey,” he said. “I figured I’d set up the paint sprayer today.”
“Okay. I’m done painting inside, so now it’s just the finishing touches, I guess.”
“All right. I think we’re almost done with the whole thing,” he said, shading his eyes as he gave the little building a once-over. “I suspect that you have some stuff to move in, but other than that…”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “Finally, huh?”
“I guess,” he said with a shrug. “I’m gonna get the paint sprayer.”
Colt got the sprayer out of his truck and filled it up. He took his time taping off the building and spraying the outside.
He could feel eyes on his back as he worked, but every time he turned around it was just Rose. Coming outside to get something from her car, or emptying a trash can. Normal worksite stuff, only way more frequent.
Still, there was a lot of staring going on from her end. The devilish side of him wanted to test her, to take off his shirt again, see how she’d react. He decided against it, though.
She’s got to come to me, he chided himself.
He finished all four walls just as the sun was beginning its descent. Colt stood back to view his handiwork from the driveway, drinking a bottle of water.
“Is it done?” she asked, sticking her head outside.
“Think so.”
She came out to stand with him, admiring the building while he tried to not admire her legs.
“It looks amazing.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So, listen…”
He looked up at her, confused by her change in tone.
“Yeah?”
Her cheeks blazed bright red.
“There’s this thing, this country western night, at The Speckled Hen tonight. I was wondering if you wanted to be my date. Like, Shelby will be there, but I thought you might want to come.”
His brows rose. “As friends?”
“As… whatever.”
He stared at her, and she squirmed.
Does this count as her coming to me?
“Sure,” he said.
“I’m going with Shelby, like I agreed to get ready with her, but I thought you could meet me there.”
His lips twitched, finding her stammering explanation endearing. “All right.”
“Good. I, uh… I better get going, then,” she said, running back to the building to lock up.
Colt loaded up the paint sprayer, waving to Rose as she left.
He had a date. Better yet, he had a date that she’d made.
He smiled, his sour mood officially over.
17
Colt strode into The Speckled Hen, looking around. The lights were turned down inside, the tables pushed to the sides to clear a space. There was a full zydeco band playing to one side, with couples swaying along.
The place was packed. Colt stepped past several groups of people at the bar to get a drink. Luckily Missy was off tonight, and some pale-faced guy got him his drink.
He had never felt more amongst his people as he did now, in a long sleeve blue plaid shirt and jeans. It was like the same Cajun fairy had dressed all the men with this event in mind.
He spotted Shelby, wearing some frilly pink shorts and a white shirt. But it was Rose, wearing a delicate wrap dress that was the same dark color as her eyes, that took his breath away.
She looked over at him, smiled, and motioned for him to join them.
Drawn to her like a moth to a flame, he went. Threading his way through the crowd, he walked up to them.
“Hey!” Shelby said.
“Hey,” he said, but he only had eyes for Rose.
“You look nice,” Rose said, blushing.
“Funny, I was about to say the same.” Her wrap dress was a little low cut in the front, giving
him an enticing view.
“I’m drinking some kind of punch they made,” Rose said, raising her glass to the light. “For the ladies. It’s sweet, but strong.”
“Probably toxic,” he joked.
She shrugged and took a sip, looking around.
“Shelby knows all these people,” she said, nodding to the group of men surrounding her friend. “I, on the other hand, don’t know any of them.”
“Should we grab a seat, then?” he suggested over the music. “That is, unless you’d rather talk to ten former frat boys.”
Her lips curved into a smile.
“A place to sit sounds good,” she agreed.
Colt led the way to one of the tables, which had been pushed to the far corner. “Is this okay?”
“Sure.”
He pulled out a seat for her, and she blushed as she took it. “Thanks.”
He sat down next to her, willing himself not to stare at the bounty she’d laid before him when she’d chosen such a low-cut top.
“You like this dress?” she asked, catching him looking.
It would look better on my floor, he thought, unembarrassed.
“It’s stunning,” he said. “I would apologize for staring, but you don’t seem too off-put.”
She gave him a slow, seductive smile that knocked him stupid. “No, I guess I’m not.”
They were both silent for a while, listening to the fiddle playing and the singer singing in Cajun French. It was upbeat, jaunty music, more meant for dancing than listening to it.
“Are you interested in dancing?” he asked, nodding his head at the couples on the floor.
“Not yet,” she said, making a face. “I don’t know, maybe not at all.”
“All right. I assume you’ll let me know.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I will.”
He was silent for a moment, then a thought occurred to him.
“You must be excited for the clinic to open,” he said.
She sipped her drink, looking reflective.
“I am. I’m ready for people to start bringing their pets in, and calling on me for farm visits. Plus the income will be nice,” she said, smiling. “I’ve been living off the stipend that I got from the county for settling out here, but that’ll run out eventually.”
“Ah, so your resources are finite. I was starting to wonder,” he teased.
“Yes, well. I told you, I was a hostess in college. In vet school, I worked at a veterinarian’s office. I’ve never been a trust fund baby or anything.”
He winced. “Hey, we’re trying to get along just like anybody else.”
“Wait, you’re a trust funder?” she asked, seeming shocked.
“Yep. All three of us are. My brothers, I mean.”
Her mouth twisted. “So you’re… what? Mega-rich?”
“The way my trust is set up, we get a small portion when we turn twenty-five. We get the remainder when our father dies.” He paused. “I spent a lot of the up-front payment already.”
“Ah, so you’re a hobo, just like me,” she cracked.
“Yeah. I have some investments that are about to hit big,” he said, playing with the condensation on his glass. “So I’ll have more money than either of my brothers soon.”
He leaned back in his chair, watching her. She didn’t get that gleam in her eye that gold-diggers always got when they found out. She was interested for the sake of conversation, not in the money itself.
Don’t get too excited, he reminded himself. She might not even be interested in you.
“I always wondered what growing up with a lot of money was like,” she said. “We always had enough, always had a place to sleep and plenty to eat, but… it was charity, I think.”
“Charity?”
“Yeah, from my mom’s followers. They made her whole life possible, I think.”
“Hmm. So we’re from different income brackets,” he said and shrugged. “I’ve seen worse.”
She cracked a lopsided grin.
“Well, just as long as you don’t think I’m after your money.”
“That would imply that you were after me,” he said.
She blushed. “I’m not sure what I’m after.”
“Let me know when you figure that out,” he said. “In the meantime, I’m off to get another drink. Can I refresh yours, since we’ve established I’m financially well-off?”
“Sure,” she said with a laugh.
He got up and made for the bar. It was so crowded that it took him several minutes to get their drinks. When he headed back to the table, the band was just finishing up, preparing to cede the stage to another.
Colt wound his way through the crowd, frowning when he got close to their table. A man was standing there, grinning at Rose. He reached out and put his hand on her arm, which she shook off like a burning brand.
“I just wanted to say hi,” the man was saying as Colt got close.
From here, Colt could make out Jared Chalke’s features. His expression pulled into a frown.
“And I told you that I never want to see you again!” she hissed. Her arms were crossed in an attempt to block him from seeing her cleavage.
Weird.
“Everything all right?” Colt asked, swooping in and setting the drinks down.
“Sure,” he said. “Nice to see you again. Colt, is it?”
“I think you need to leave Rose alone,” Colt said, getting straight to the point, his words underlined with steel.
“We’re old friends,” Jared said. “Right, Rose?”
She glared at him with what seemed like all the bitterness in the world. She seemed about five seconds away from spitting on his boots. Colt didn’t understand why she was so angry, but he knew the feeling well enough.
He reached out and put an arm around Rose, steering her away. She was shaking with her fury.
“I’ll see you soon, Rose!” Jared called.
Don’t deck him. Don’t do it, he reminded himself.
He pushed Rose toward the door. Shelby popped up, appearing next to Rose.
“Hey, sorry, I was talking to…” she started, then stopped. “What’s wrong?”
“We have to go,” Rose blurted, pushing past her friend.
“Sorry,” Colt said, shrugging.
They finally made it to the door, Shelby falling to the wayside. He had to let go of Rose for them to make it through the door. Colt stepped outside after Rose, unsure what was happening.
Rose looked both ways, then quickly crossed the road. After watching her for a second, Colt was left to follow her across the street.
“Hey—”
“Just… not now,” she said, slowing down once they made it to her driveway. They walked to her front porch before he spoke again.
She fixed her gaze on some point on the horizon, swallowing.
“I’m just asking you to look at me,” he said, at a loss.
Rose brought her eyes up slowly, tears shining in them. His heart wrenched, seeing that.
“Do you want me to go back and beat the shit out of him?” he asked earnestly.
She wiped away a tear, looking up at him.
“You would, wouldn’t you?” she said softly.
“I would if you asked.”
He realized that, at that moment, he was willing to do anything she asked. It was a frightening moment of reality.
He thought she would speak again, but instead she raised up on her tiptoes and kissed him. He was surprised, but he accepted her kiss.
Her kiss was soft, but insistent. He returned it gently, making himself stay still. She grew bolder, her hand delving into his hair, her lips parting.
He explored her with tender touches of his tongue, making her grip his hair more tightly. She wanted control, desperately; he gave her exactly what she needed.
She bit his lower lip, surprising him. He groaned, struggling not to take control. She froze for a moment, then kissed him a final time on the lips.
She stepped back, disentan
gling herself.
“I—” she said, shaking her head. “Thank you. I know it’s… hard for you.”
A thousand frustrated responses came to mind, but he tamped them down. He reached out slowly and took her hand in his. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not.”
The slight breathlessness in her tone made him want to pull her closer, kiss her again. But he didn’t want to cross any invisible lines with her. Not tonight.
“I’ll tell you when it’s not,” he promised, squeezing her fingers and then dropping her hand. “Go ahead inside, hmm? I want to make sure you get all the way into your house.”
Glancing behind herself at the house, which was only a few inches away, she smiled.
“Okay.”
Colt backed up respectfully. She bit her lip and nodded at him. He watched her shyly unlock her door, disappearing inside.
He saw the curtains next to her door move. He waved goodnight and walked to his truck, mind full of questions.
Questions about who Jared Chalke was, and what he had done to Rose. Because the more that Colt knew her, the more he had the feeling that Jared had done something very, very bad.
Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, Colt pulled his truck out. Thinking all the while how fantastic it would feel to bury his fist in Jared’s face…
18
Rose was wakened from a sensual dream about Colt by knocking on her front door. She opened her eyes but lay still for a second, glassy eyed.
What time is it? It’s light, but only barely.
The knocking came again, persistent.
“One second!” she shouted, getting up and throwing on pajama bottoms and a robe.
As she headed to the front door, the person pounded on the door. “All right! All right.”
She opened the door, expecting Shelby. Instead it was a blonde woman with her hair in a haphazard ponytail, makeup running down her face.
“Hi?” Rose said, confused.
“Have you seen Jack?” the woman asked, pure desperation.
“Um… no. I was asleep,” Rose said.
“I just know his father has taken him!” the woman said, dissolving in tears. She collapsed on Rose’s front stoop, leaving Rose to puzzle it out.
