Never Enough

by Elliott, Kelly

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Weird? How?”

  I swallowed hard and then shrugged. “I don’t know. You never even exchanged an email with me. It’s been your brother Ty or one of your parents handling everything. I don’t know why you sold the house, and I don’t care, Mr. Shaw. I just want to be a good neighbor, and since I live so close to your family, I was trying to be friendly. That’s all.”

  Brock suddenly dropped his gaze to my mouth. I had to fight the urge to lick my now-dry-as-the-Sahara-Desert lips. When he licked his own, I swear I felt the ground shake.

  One minute he looked at me like I was a bug to step on; the next he looked like he wanted to kiss me! The man made my head spin, and I’d only known him for less than five minutes.

  “You want to be a good neighbor?” he asked in a low, sexy voice that almost had me wishing he would kiss me. Okay, maybe he wasn’t such an ass.

  Wait. What in the hell am I saying?

  “Yes,” I stated.

  “Then stay out of my business and away from my son.”

  And it appeared the jerk was back. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Did I stutter . . . Miss Pratt?”

  There was no way I was going to let him think he could intimidate me. I folded my arms and let myself give him a good once-over.

  This time, I got an even better look than a few moments ago.

  Oh yes, he was built indeed. Bigger than what I’d thought he would be for a bull rider. He had a broad chest and well-defined arms, and by the way his legs fit into those jeans, I would say the rest of his body was in top form as well.

  Still, good looks aside, this man would not be allowed to speak to me like this on my own property.

  “Listen here, Mister Shaw,” I retorted with my own sassy attitude, “I don’t know what crawled up that ass of yours and died, but I do not appreciate being spoken to that way. This is my property now, and you, sir, are not welcome on it if you’re going to be a cocksucker.”

  His brow lifted, and I swore I saw the corners of his mouth rise slightly. “A cocksucker?” he repeated.

  “Yes! A dirty, rotten asshole of a cocksucker. Oh! And let’s add rude in there while we’re at it.”

  “Me, rude? You just uttered a laundry list of bad names to call me.”

  I scoffed. “Oh, please. I’m positive I’m not the first person to call you an asshole.”

  Then he looked like he wanted to kiss me again, with the way he was staring at my mouth—and, I hated to admit, I wanted him to.

  How messed up am I that I actually want this man to kiss me?

  Brock took a few steps back. It was as if he was finally noticing the heat our bodies had been creating by standing so close together.

  “Does your mama know you’ve got a dirty mouth on you?”

  Narrowing my eyes, I leaned forward some. “Does your mama know how you treat women?”

  He flinched and took another step back.

  Ha! That did it.

  A guy didn’t have to be raised in the South to know that if his mama found out he was being a dick to a woman, she’d be pretty pissed about it.

  “Well, looks like you met my brother Brock,” Ty said from the entry of the barn. “And, by the look on your face and the way you’re standing, he didn’t make a very good first impression.”

  I lifted my chin higher. “No, he didn’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen”—I glared at Brock—“and I use that word loosely for one of you, I’ve got work to do.”

  I walked past Brock but came to an abrupt halt when he reached for my arm and stopped me, whispering under his breath as I stared up at him with as much contempt as I could muster.

  “I didn’t mean to be so . . . rude. It’s just . . . this place holds memories I’d like to forget, and I don’t want my son . . . well, anyway, I’m sorry.”

  My eyes looked down to where his hand was holding my arm. He instantly dropped it and ran it through his hair.

  “You know the way off of my property. Don’t let the barn door hit your ass on the way out.”

  The good-looking jerk actually had the nerve to give me a crooked, sexy-as-sin grin. When I turned to leave, I could feel his eyes on me.

  I didn’t want to do it, but I glanced over my shoulder, and he was watching me walk away. With that damn smirk still plastered across his face.

  Ugh! Men!

  Chapter Six

  BROCK

  Turning on the heel of my cowboy boot, I watched that gorgeous firecracker—otherwise known as Lincoln Pratt—storm out of the barn. The barn that had once belonged to me.

  My eyes drifted down to the perfect ass in a pair of tight jeans. She glanced back and caught me staring.

  Ty followed her out, issuing apologies on my behalf for whatever it was I had said to make her so angry. I smiled bigger when she lifted her hand to shut my brother up as she stomped off to the house.

  I stopped next to Ty, and we both watched.

  “What in the hell did you do to piss her off like that?”

  Right before Lincoln walked into her house, she cast a glance over her shoulder once more. The look she gave me clearly said fuck off.

  “She’s a tad bit on the emotional side, is what I’m guessing,” I said, knowing damn well I had been a complete jerk but unwilling to admit that to Ty. One reason was, I felt embarrassed by my reaction moments ago. Two, he would for sure tell our mother. I shuddered at that thought. I faced my brother. “What in the hell were you thinking, bringing Blayze here?”

  Ty looked at me like I had lost my mind. “Why can’t I bring Blayze here? Mama had a pie to give to the girls, and he wanted to help deliver it. Hell, Brock, he doesn’t remember anything about this place.”

  I pointed to the house. “She was talking to him about Kaci. She ain’t none of her damn business.”

  Ty looked down and shook his head, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “Brock, at some point, you’re gonna have to start talking to him about his mama. He’s getting curious about her.”

  My shoulder hit his as I pushed past him.

  “He has a right to know about his mother!”

  “Fuck you, Ty.”

  “Yeah, fuck you, too, Brock. You’re so damn scared to talk about her. It was an accident. Stop acting like it’s all your fault.”

  I stopped, then turned and rushed him. I grabbed on to his shirt and shook him. I couldn’t control the rage that was quickly building up inside of me. “Shut up! Don’t talk about it. Don’t you fucking talk about it! And stay away from me while I’m here.”

  Ty pushed me away from him. “You need help, brother. You’re carrying some pent-up guilt, and if you don’t get it out soon, you’re going to be asking for trouble. You think riding a bull and the occasional one-night stand is going to keep it at bay? You’re wrong. You’ve got to talk to someone about it.”

  “I’m fine!” I shouted, balling my fists. I’d never wanted to hit my brother like I did right then.

  He shrugged. “If you say so.”

  I watched as he turned back to the house.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  Without looking back at me, he said, “I’m about to ask a beautiful woman out for a dinner date. Some of us still know how to treat a lady.”

  It felt like someone had punched me in the chest. Knowing Ty was going to take Lincoln out made me green with jealousy. Then the idea that I was jealous annoyed me. Yes, Lincoln was attractive. Hell, she was beautiful, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had a rush of confusing emotions when she first looked into my eyes. But jealous?

  What in the hell was wrong with me?

  “Daddy, why are you and Uncle Ty fighting?”

  Somehow, I felt her watching me, so I turned to look at the house. Lincoln was standing at the window, observing the entire scene. I frowned, knowing that her first impression of me was that I was a complete dick. When she took a step away from the window, I looked down to Blayze. “It’s okay, buddy. Bro
thers sometimes fight.”

  He nodded and took my hand as we walked over to my truck. “Miss Lincoln is real pwetty, ain’t she, Daddy?”

  Glancing back over my shoulder, I watched as Lincoln motioned for my brother to come into what had once been my house. “Yeah, she’s pretty.”

  “You got a cwush on her, like me?”

  Looking down at him, I laughed. “You’ve got a crush on Lincoln, huh?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, I don’t really know her, and from what I can tell, she’s stubborn as hell and probably a pain in the ass.”

  “Grams is gonna wash your mouth out with Ivory, Daddy.”

  I kissed my son on the forehead as I buckled him up in his booster seat. “Come on. I believe I promised you a roping lesson.”

  His eyes lit up, and I couldn’t deny that the warmth in my chest made me forget almost everything. No matter what everyone thought of me, I hated being away from my son. Every time I had to pack up and leave, I felt a piece of me being left behind with him.

  I shut the door and rounded my truck, and, being a glutton for punishment, I looked back at the white house.

  The one thing I couldn’t forget were those deep-green eyes. I’d never in my life seen anyone with eyes that color. The way they’d sparkled and seemed to catch the light sneaking into the barn . . . I’d literally had to catch my breath when Lincoln’s eyes met mine.

  Once I was in the truck, I shook the image away and smiled back at Blayze. “Let’s go ropin’.”

  “Yes!” Blayze called out.

  The conversation at the dinner table went in one ear and out the other. It was good to be home, but my mind was spinning, and it seemed to keep landing back on one thing.

  Lincoln Pratt.

  “So, Brock, Ty told me you made an impression on Lincoln today.”

  My head snapped up, and I looked at my brother and then back over to my mother. “Um, yeah. I headed over there after you told me where Ty and Blayze went.”

  Smiling, my mother said, “She’s a nice girl, isn’t she?”

  Ty chuckled. “He wouldn’t know. The last words she told him were to not let the barn door hit him on the ass when he was leaving.”

  I glared at my brother. The heat from my mother’s stare hit me almost instantly.

  “What did you say to her, Brock Shaw?” my mother insisted.

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s over and done with. I apologized, and she chose not to accept it.”

  Ty laughed.

  “Brock, I raised you better than that. Now, if you were upset that Blayze was over there, there’s no need.”

  “Let’s just drop it, Mama, okay?” I asked, glancing over to Blayze.

  She looked at my son and then back to me, her anger evident on her face.

  “I walked in on a conversation, and I might have overreacted a bit.”

  My mother rolled her eyes while my father sighed. Dad wasn’t much of one to give his opinion on too many things. He tended to let our mother handle things like her grown sons acting like bastards.

  Blayze decided it was his turn to speak up. “I like Miss Lincoln. She showed me her horse. I’d like to visit her again. She’s real pwetty, and she has a nice smile.”

  “Well, we know the boy has good taste,” Ty said as my folks laughed, and I forced a smile.

  After dinner, I helped Mama clean up the dishes while my father took Blayze with him to check on the horses that were getting ready to foal.

  It didn’t take long before my mother could no longer handle the silence.

  “Lincoln is a sweet girl, and she can’t help what she walked in on. She doesn’t know about the . . . issues you have with that old house. The memories that surface for you.”

  I swallowed hard. “It was just weird, seeing another woman there, in the barn, knowing she was changing the house and all. I let my emotions get to me.”

  She glanced up at me, then back to the dish she was washing. “Maybe she’ll be able to exorcise some of those ghosts you think are still there.”

  I picked up a plate and dried it. How could I make my family understand how hard it was for me to go back to that house? How the memory of me failing at my marriage because I was a selfish bastard hit me like a punch to the gut every time I went near the place? “Out of sight” is supposed to be out of mind.

  “You regretting selling the house?”

  “No,” I said, not even needing to think about it. “I have a house.” Dragging in a deep breath, I said, “Maybe I should bring Blayze out with me for a few weeks. It would be nice to be around him.”

  My mother nearly dropped the bowl she was washing. “What? Take him out on the road with you? Brock, that’s no life for a five-year-old boy. What in the world are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking I miss my son. I’m thinking that you, Dad, and Ty are the ones raising him. It should be me.” That familiar ache of guilt coursed through me. I wanted to be with Blayze; I needed to be with him.

  One more championship. Just give me one more.

  She turned to face me, her wet-gloved hand resting on her hip. “Where is this coming from?”

  I shrugged. The last thing I wanted to do was mention the fight with Ty from earlier. I hadn’t even been home for an hour, and the two of us were going at it.

  “Maybe you need a break. You’ve been doing this since you were seventeen. Maybe it’s time to stop. Blayze needs you, Brock.”

  I looked into her eyes. I knew I was being selfish. Old mistakes were hard to break, after all. “I love bull riding, Mama. I’m number one in the world right now. I’m making good money and building a secure future for me and Blayze. I just need a couple more years.”

  Shaking her head, she faced the sink again and grabbed the bowl she’d let drop back into the water. “I’d think you would have learned your lesson by now.”

  My eyes widened in shock. She’d voiced exactly what I had been thinking. “What does that mean?”

  She cleaned the bowl like she was trying to rub the finish completely off. “What does that mean? What does that mean?” she yelled as she dropped the bowl again and faced me. “It means, you have a son, Brock. A young man who needs his father, and all you can think about is how you’re number one right now. Or how the next bull you draw is going to be the one you get that perfect score on. How good you feel with the adrenaline rush you get. You’ve always put those damn bulls first in everything, while your father and I are doing our best to help raise your son.”

  I felt my face drain of color as I stared at my mother. I chose to ignore the reference to me putting bull riding before Kaci. “Why haven’t you ever told me before that you don’t want to help with Blayze?”

  She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “Oh Lord, it’s not that, Brock! I love that boy like there’s no tomorrow, but he needs you. He already doesn’t have a mama.”

  “And I’m guessing you think that’s my fault.”

  Her mouth fell open. “I never said that, Brock Shaw. That’s something you’ve put on your own shoulders, and you’ve decided to carry that burden with you. It wasn’t your fault.”

  I scoffed. Her words spoken only moments ago felt like they had burned a hole in the middle of my chest. “Like you just said, Mama, I always put the bulls first, and that’s what I did that night. I put a ride first, and look what it cost me. Look what it cost Blayze.”

  Her hand came up and touched the side of my face. “Brock, the end result would have been the same regardless. You wouldn’t have been able to change the outcome.”

  “It was the stress of her handling everything alone. I caused it because I was never there for her. Dirk told me not to ride; he was furious with me for climbing onto that bull.”

  “We both know Dirk loved Kaci and was angry at the time, but he’s never blamed you.” Another long breath was pulled into my mother’s lungs before she let it out. “Your father and I were going to wait to talk to you about this . . . but we both agree you have to dec
ide what your future is going to be, son. Blayze needs you, and you need to make a decision.”

  My heart seized in my chest. “Are you asking me to give up bull riding?”

  “You have a five-year-old boy who misses you when you’re gone. I know you try to fly home during the week when you can, but you’re sometimes gone for a few weeks at a time. You’re missing his games, and your daddy and I are getting older. We’d like to travel and see the world. I’ve raised my boys, Brock. Now it’s time for you to raise yours.”

  I threw the dishcloth onto the counter. “So this is why Ty jumped all over me. You all decided to get together and have . . . what? A family talk about how shitty a father I am?”

  She frowned.

  “Did the three of you decide this was the right time, right in the middle of the season, to lay this shit on me? Is Ty still bitter ’cause he can’t climb up onto a bull anymore, so he wants to make sure I don’t either?”

  “What? No! This has nothing to do with your brother, and everything to do with you being a father and your son needing you.”

  Her words were hitting so hard it felt like someone was jabbing me with a knife. I knew it was true. Every single word. True. “Fine. I’ll hire someone to travel with me, so Blayze can come on the road with me, and we’ll just stay gone. Give all of you the space to do what you want, whenever you want.”

  A look of horror swept over her face. “He’s about to start kindergarten, Brock. You can’t rip him away from everything he knows!”

  “I’m his dad, remember?”

  I turned away from my mother and started out of the kitchen. I needed to get the hell out of there before I said something I was going to regret.

  Her words only brought to light what I worked so hard to try and keep buried. I was running. From my past. From the guilt that crept into my dreams every night. Hell, I was running from my own family. Every single time I looked Ty in the eyes, I questioned why it wasn’t me who had gotten hurt. Why him and not me. I had deserved it, not my brother.