Learning the Ropes

by T. J. Kline

  She sat up, bracing a hand against his chest, and looked down at him. “When I what?” He couldn’t possibly think she was leading him on, teasing him.

  “If you want me to kiss you again, Ali, all you have to do is ask. I’m happy to oblige.”

  She pushed herself to her knees, using his chest for leverage as dizziness overtook her. “I think once was enough. I think I’d rather kiss Beast.” She crawled out of the truck bed and stumbled, surprised when he caught her arm, righting her.

  Her eyes skirted past him to the two empty soda cans in the back of the truck beside the bottle of whiskey with nearly a third of the bottle gone. She hadn’t really drunk that much, had she? She swayed unsteadily.

  “Easy, cowgirl. Better let me help you inside.”

  She shoved his chest, frustrated when he didn’t budge. “Don’t try to give me that knight-in-shining-armor crap you pull. I’m not one of your bunnies. I can do it myself.”

  “Sure you can.”

  He was patronizing her and it was pissing her off. She jerked her arm from his grasp, falling against the tailgate of the truck. “Let go, Chris.”

  She fell backward and he caught her before her rear hit the ground, pulling her up against him. She twisted, trying to break his grip on her, and her elbow contacted with something hard and solid.

  “Ow! Will you stop fighting me and let me help you?” He curled one arm around her waist, pulling her up against his chest, and rubbed his eye with his free hand.

  “I think you’ve helped enough,” she whispered, staring at his throat, not wanting to meet those blue eyes. She had no doubt he’d see the hurt she was trying to hide.

  Before she could protest, he scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the house as if she didn’t weigh anything, not stopping until he reached the door. Dizziness overtook her but she wasn’t sure whether it was being in his arms, curled against his chest, or the alcohol. She closed her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder, cursing herself for her folly.

  “I sure hope it’s unlocked,” he muttered.

  “Hmm, Dad never locks it when I go out,” she murmured against the expanse of skin just above the neckline of his t-shirt. He still smelled like the coconut drink Delilah had spilled on him but there was a musky scent that was all Chris and she inhaled. “Oh, everything is spinning.”

  “Been a while since you drank this much, huh?”

  She nodded, the movement causing another wave of nausea, and she buried her hand into her hair, against her temple. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “Let’s get you to the couch.” Chris settled her on the worn sofa before he disappeared into the kitchen. She could hear him rummaging through the cupboard before the faucet turned on.

  “Here.” He pressed a cool glass of water into her hand, set a large mixing bowl on the floor beside her, and pressed her shoulder back so she lay propped up against the cushions. He laid a damp washcloth against her forehead and dropped two aspirin in her other hand. “Take these and finish that glass of water. It should help with the hangover you’re bound to have tomorrow.”

  She did as he ordered as he sat beside her on the edge of the cushion. “I’m sorry I let you drink this much. I didn’t mean for you to get sick. When you finish that, I’ll get you to your room.”

  “No,” she said, waving a hand at him. “I’ll sleep here. If I move again, I will throw up.”

  How was she supposed to stay mad at him when he was being so sweet to her? She took another sip of the water, avoiding looking at him. Chris brushed her hair back from her forehead and adjusted the washcloth.

  “Still dizzy?”

  “A little,” she admitted.

  “Try putting one foot on the floor.” He reached for the blanket draped over the back of the couch and spread it over her. “Finish the water,” he instructed. “The sooner you get to sleep, the less sick you’ll feel.”

  She drank the last of the water and closed her eyes, willing the nausea to subside. “Done this a few times?”

  He chuckled. “Just a few. Go to sleep, Ali. I’ll see you in the morning.” The last thing Alicia remembered as she drifted off were his hands gently removing her boots and belt before the calloused pad of his thumb caressed her cheek.

  CHRIS WOKE THE next morning to the sizzle of frying bacon, the scrape of a spoon in a pan, and a monstrous crick in his neck. He rolled his head forward, stretching the stiff muscles and running his hand over the back of his neck, massaging the knot at the base of his skull. He stretched his long legs out in front of him and arched his back, glancing beside him at Alicia sleeping peacefully on the couch.

  Common sense had told him to leave once she’d fallen asleep, to get as far away from this situation as quickly as he possibly could. Instead, he’d removed her boots, massaging her tiny feet. When she sighed softly, he felt every part of his body jerk to attention. He rose when she whispered his name, touching her face with his fingertips, fighting the urge to kiss her one more time. What could it hurt? She wouldn’t remember it. But in the end, he’d only pressed his lips to her forehead before sitting beside her, ready to help if she woke and got sick.

  He looked over at her, curled into a fetal position. Her mussed hair was tousled over the throw pillow and her mascara from last night was smudged under her eyes. In spite of it all, she was still gorgeous. Women paid top dollar to look as good made up as Ali naturally did. She had no idea how rare she was, but that unique quality was one of the things Chris adored about her, and what scared him most.

  He brushed her hair back from her face but she didn’t even stir. At least she’d made it through the night without getting sick. He picked up the empty bowl and her water glass and took them into the kitchen.

  “Morning, Cristobel.”

  Jessie was far too cheerful for this early hour of the morning, especially considering there was a man sleeping on the couch next to her daughter, even platonically. He saw Noah sitting at the table reading the paper.

  “Sorry about keeping Ali out so late last night,” he apologized.

  “And bringing her home drunk,” Noah added.

  “That, too,” he agreed, having the decency to be ashamed. “Although that didn’t happen until after we got here.”

  Noah gave him a reproving glance over the paper. “The two of you always did cause trouble when you got together.”

  “Sir, I can promise you, we weren’t getting into any trouble. In fact, I brought her back early to avoid it.”

  “Cristobel, don’t you worry about this sour puss. Sit and eat.” Jessie patted his shoulder and slid a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast in front of her husband.

  “Don’t go to any trouble for me, Jessie, but I will get myself a cup of coffee, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course, but don’t be ridiculous. You sit and eat. There’s plenty.” She reached for a coffee cup and poured the steaming brew, setting the mug in front of him. “Is she still sleeping?”

  Chris nodded and sipped the coffee, grateful for the anticipated jolt of caffeine to his groggy brain. He thanked Jessie for the food as she slid a heaping plate in front of him. He’d just taken a bite of the salty bacon when he heard a knock at the door.

  Noah looked up from the paper again, rising to look out the kitchen window. Chris could just make out a Mercedes pulling away from the end of the driveway, speeding off. He knew only a few people frivolous enough to drive a car like that to a horse ranch. If David had Delilah drive him to Ali’s house, he was going to pummel him before David could get off the front porch.

  “Would you excuse me for a second?” Jessie was about to protest when Chris hurried to the front door, opening it just as David was about to knock again.

  He stepped outside, shutting the door behind him. “You’ve got some brass ones.”

  “Why doesn’t it surprise me to find you here this early?” Chris could see David’s mood hadn’t improved.

  “Someone had to bring Ali home last night.”


  “And stay?” David wasn’t going to be deterred. “What happened to your eye?”

  “What’s wrong with my eye?” Chris moved down the steps toward his truck and twisted the mirror so he could look at it. A deep purple bruise surrounded his eye. He touched the swelling at his brow bone and remembered Ali flailing when she almost fell. “It was an accident.”

  “Sure it was.” David cocked his head to the side. “Are you sure she didn’t pop you for trying to put a few moves on her?”

  “Things aren’t like that between me and Ali.” Chris didn’t want to talk about how he got the black eye, or what happened after he’d brought Ali home last night. “Who was that dropping you off? Or do I even want to ask?” Chris shook his head as David ran a hand over his unshaven face.

  “Look, I came to apologize to Ali. I don’t owe you an explanation.” David turned back toward the house.

  “You think?” Chris grabbed the truck keys from his pocket and slapped them into David’s hand. He just wanted to get David to leave before Ali woke. She didn’t need to deal with this along with a hangover. “Go to my parents’ place. I’ll be out there later today. Ali can give me a ride.”

  “What’s going on? I thought you were going to Chris’s house last night.”

  Chris sighed when he heard Ali’s voice from the front porch. He hadn’t even heard her come outside and wondered how much of their conversation she’d overheard. He saw David look at him suspiciously before turning to Ali.

  “Ali, I want to apologize for last night. I had an argument with my dad before we went out and I just . . . I guess it bothered me more than I thought it did.”

  Chris clenched his jaw at David’s contrite apology. David certainly wasn’t offering the information about who he left the bar with or how Delilah dropped him off this morning. David sure didn’t seem like he was in a hurry to correct Ali’s assumption about where he stayed last night. Chris watched Ali, curious to see if she was buying David’s apology as he leaned against the side of the truck casually. David made his way up the porch steps to where she watched him, wide-eyed.

  “Can you forgive me?” He reached for her hand.

  “It’s fine, David. I think last night we were all a bit out of sorts.”

  She shook her head and slid her hand from his grasp, waving him off as she looked past David and met Chris’s gaze. His brows shot up his forehead in surprise. She did remember last night, and from the look on her face, she regretted every bit of it. Disappointment coursed through him, even as he reminded himself that it was for the best. Nothing could ever last between him and Ali. It was better to walk away now, before anyone got hurt.

  “Did I do that to your eye?” She brushed past David and moved to Chris’s side, carefully touching the side of his bruised eye.

  He reached for her hand. The touch was enough to ignite sparks of desire in his belly, and below. He dropped her hand but not before David saw his reaction and narrowed his eyes.

  “I’d say it makes us even.” He didn’t want to hurt her but he also didn’t want her thinking there was more to last night than a kiss. An amazing kiss that, even now, had him needing a cold shower, but it couldn’t be anything more than a memory.

  She took a step back, as if slipping back into the friendship zone they knew so well, leaving last night in the past as a drunken mistake. “Mom sent me to get you both inside for breakfast. Yours is getting cold and she’s dishing you up a plate, too, David.”

  She might be acting like Ali but there was something in her eyes that wasn’t right. As many stupid antics as he’d pulled, as much trouble as he’d caused over the years, Chris had never seen her look at him with disappointment. It made him wonder if he hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of his life.

  ALICIA’S RAPID PULSE still hadn’t slowed. She felt like she’d just finished a barrel race and tried to hide the shaking of her hands as she opened the front door. With as much whiskey as she had last night, she shouldn’t remember what happened clearly enough to be embarrassed, but seeing Chris’s black eye brought the memories flooding back with amazing clarity. Her head throbbed like a herd of horses was running through it but she wasn’t sure if it was from her hangover or the blood rushing through her veins when she saw Chris and David together.

  She’d never felt so torn.

  She couldn’t help her feelings for Chris. She’d been trying to manage them since she was a teenager but she wasn’t stupid enough to assume he felt the same way. In nearly a decade, she’d seen at least twenty women he called girlfriends come and go in his life, most within a couple of weeks. Since high school, he hadn’t had a relationship last more than a few dates, at least, not according to Sydney. Chris was a free spirit who refused to be tied down by romance or relationships. He was a self-proclaimed bachelor and planned on staying that way. He’d made that abundantly clear. Things between them weren’t romantic and she was never going to be more than a bit of fun for him.

  But David was a different story. She hadn’t known him long but he seemed to be the more level-headed, respectable choice. David Greenly was always on the radar of several cowgirls around the circuit. He was heart-stopping with his dark good looks but, until now, he’d never paid any attention to any women trying to catch his eye. He’d always been completely focused on being a champion, like his father and brother. She could appreciate that quiet determination to succeed but there was an underlying broodiness that she couldn’t put her finger on. She wasn’t sure she wanted to if his actions last night were an indication of his underlying issues. She wasn’t sure she wanted to get anywhere near that hornet’s nest. He and Chris were polar opposites.

  David might not cause the frenzy of butterflies to take flight in her stomach when he reached for her hand but could she learn to feel that way with David, if she gave him a chance. In time, couldn’t David show her that her feelings for Chris weren’t real? Couldn’t his attention cause the same inferno of desire to pool in her belly when she knew him better? Wouldn’t she learn to crave his touch the way she did with Chris?

  David reached for her arm, gently grasping her wrist as she reached for the door handle. “I really am sorry for last night. I was stupid and drank way too much.” His voice was so rueful and sincere her heart softened.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Chris, still leaning against the truck. Chris didn’t want her and she had to let him go.

  “It wasn’t all your fault, David. We all made mistakes last night.”

  Chapter Eight

  * * *

  ALICIA FINISHED GROOMING Beast and led him to his stall. She was just heading to the mare barn to find her father when the ringtone sounded from the phone in her pocket, signaling a call. She ignored it, silently praying it wasn’t David again. Breakfast yesterday had been awkward enough with David and Chris eyeing one another suspiciously, her mother watching all three of them and her father pretending to be oblivious to it all. Both of her parents noticed the palpable tension between the men and tried to keep the conversation going. It wasn’t long before both of them headed for the Thomas ranch, leaving her to speculate where they would go from here, if either chose to speak to her again at all.

  “Hey, Ali’i,” her father greeted. She smiled, recognizing the Hawaiian word for royalty, her father’s nickname for her since she was old enough to toddle to his knee. “Coming to help with Mama Bear?”

  Alicia laughed, knowing no one ever volunteered to help with the cantankerous mare. “Not if I can help it.”

  Her father chuckled. “I guess I can’t blame you.”

  He leaned against the wall of the stall he was cleaning. He looked a bit tired and she wondered again how much longer he’d be able to keep this pace. Managing all of these horses was a physical job and he didn’t move as quickly as he used to, although he still looked far younger than his fifty-five years. She knew he’d been in to see his doctor about the arthritis wracking his hands with pain. Guilt flooded her heart as she watched him flex them stiffly, t
rying to alleviate the pain causing the joints to ache miserably. Ali wanted to help him lighten his workload but the only way she could do that was for them to have their own place, to work for themselves.

  “Why don’t you finish these last three stalls and drop some alfalfa into the feeders while I take care of Mama Bear?”

  “Well played, Dad.” She narrowed her eyes at him playfully and wagged a finger. “I think you just want to get out of cleaning these last few stalls,” she teased.

  Her father shook his head and moved to the stall next to her, housing the temperamental chestnut horse. “You know Bradley asked about you again this morning.”

  Alicia sighed as he went into the stall, murmuring nonsense to the grouchy mare. Her father was still hoping she’d take the job on the ranch. After runs like her last one, she knew without a shadow of a doubt, barrel racing was what she wanted to do until she couldn’t sit in a saddle any longer. Sure, the thought of constantly scrambling to try to stay in the money made her wish for something with a steady paycheck but it wasn’t worth sacrificing her freedom. The job at the Diamond Bar might be a sure thing and she knew Bradley would let them stay in the house as long as one of them was working the horses for him but it was only a temporary solution. If she took the job working for Bradley, she wouldn’t have time to rodeo and would find herself, and her parents, stuck in the same position they were in now—tied down to a ranch, working all hours, for something that wasn’t theirs.

  “I don’t know, Dad,” she called from the stall. “I just . . .” Her phone buzzed in her pocket, signaling a text message. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

  Sorry for Friday. Dinner, Sat. on the way home? I want to make it up to you.

  Alicia saw David’s number flash on her screen as a missed call. She was surprised by his persistance. It didn’t seem like him to pursue any woman, especially one who wasn’t returning the attention. After last weekend, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be around Chris or David right now. It might be safer to just lie low and let her heart gain some perspective, maybe a little clarity. When they left after breakfast, David had barely spoken except to ask if he could call her. By Sunday, he’d already texted her at least a dozen times to ask her to dinner and his tenacious pursuit seemed out of character. She couldn’t keep putting him off but she just wasn’t sure what to say or what she really wanted right now.