by Alexa Davis
Now, with his hands roving my body, gently washing me, massaging my neck and shoulders, I reminded the voice in my head that I was getting ahead of myself. Just because I’d never shared intimacy like this, caring for each other not just during sex, but after, didn’t mean that it was as special to him.
His eyes were all for me, roving over me and silently reminding me that everything he could see was his. The intensity of his gaze made me shiver, and gooseflesh covered my arms in spite of the steaming-hot water pouring down on us. I crimsoned and looked away, mortified that now he could see me blush down my chest to the bottom of my ribcage. I pulled away and climbed out of the shower. By the time he rinsed and joined me, I was wrapped up in a bath sheet that hung to my knees.
I took a quick look at my dress and it showed it to look like it had been through exactly what we’d done to it. It was wrinkled beyond belief and damp with sweat. I threw on one of his shirts and snuck back to my quarters for clean clothes, relieved that it was still quiet because of the holiday. I blew out my hair, applied a two-minute face, and opened the door just as he knocked.
“Well, damn. You look like a fresh spring morning, Miss Rachel,” he drawled, pushing his hat back on his head and grinning at me. I laughed and took the arm he offered. On the drive into town, he was so quiet, I thought something must be wrong, but I didn’t want to ruin the nice time we were having by asking. Finally, when I thought I couldn’t stand the pressure to the silence any longer, he sighed and started to tell me about his brother Tucker.
I’d heard about Tucker from the guys while we worked, even about how they’d accidentally dated the same woman. But, I still managed to be pretty damn surprised when he told me who that woman was.
“Oh. My. God,” I stammered. “Does that woman have no shame?” He stared out the windshield as though he would turn to stone if he so much as glanced at me. I coughed, and he refused to even relax his hold on the steering wheel. “Hey,” I said. I ran my fingers down his arm until he relaxed. Then I punched him in the shoulder.
“What the…” he started before I could interject.
“Are you going to start trusting me anytime soon?” I demanded. I punched him again, much lighter than the first time. “Or is it your brother you don’t trust?” I snuggled in close to him so he could put his arm around me. He chuckled and squeezed me into his side.
“No, I guess I’m really just not sure he’s ever going to forgive me. He and a few other people always took my lack of serious relationships to mean that I was a hound dog, but I’m not. In case the current audience was wondering,” he added hastily. “He was so hurt and angry, and she screwed up his plans so royally. I never understood how he could think I had anything to with that.”
I felt his body sag in his seat. He spoke from a hundred nights of guilt and the pain of losing a loved one and a best friend and it resounded in the hollowness of his voice.
“I bet you’re going to find out that everything is okay,” I tried to reassure him. “She’s a whore. By now, he’s got to be putting the blame where it belongs, which is apparently Sara Abbott’s push-up bra.” Daniel snorted and his body lost some rigidity as he began to laugh out loud.
“God, Rachel. You don’t pull punches, do you?” He laughed and sighed. “Damnit, I’m trying not to remember what a let-down it was when she took that thing off, now that I’m picturing it. Do you want me picturing that padded monstrosity?” He laughed harder when I vigorously shook my head in the negative slapped the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “Oh, honey, I wish you’d have saved that for when Tuck met you. He’d be rolling.”
I grinned, happy that I’d made him laugh and that he was letting himself look forward to dinner with his brother. After all, Tucker was the second oldest, only younger than Daniel by a year and a half. All the stories the old goats had told me about the ranch painted the young Hargrave boys as inseparable no matter what kind of mischief they were getting into. It was difficult to see the man next to me as a child, willing and capable of releasing frogs into the workers’ quarters, but even Pete laughed, recalling stunts the two had pulled as young adults that involved strippers and poker games.
I crossed my fingers. I may not need the excitement of the brothers in their heyday of terrorizing Lago Colina, but I prayed that, at the very least, I would be able to finish my dinner without witnessing a fistfight.
Shelly’s Place was exactly what I’d imagined. The exterior was beat up and as dusk fell and the lights came on, I was unabashedly delighted by the signage, a flickering, wavering candle to draw lost souls inside. The ‘S’ at the beginning of Shelly’s was completely burnt out, and none of the remaining letters lit completely.
I was staring at the exterior of a bar from a biker movie, complete with Harleys and trucks parked haphazardly on the gravel lot. I watched the front door anxiously as we approached, nervously hoping to see a bar fight spill outside as a bad guy got thrown out the door. I brushed aside the twinge of disappointment when we walked through the door to clean, wooden tables, smiling waitresses, and good ole boys laughing over their bottles of Bud Light.
Despite its rather nefarious appearance, Shelly’s had apparently been a mainstay for ranch hands and truckers, bike clubs and police officers, for decades. The pool games were guaranteed to be clean, and the beer was cheap and cold. It was still early, so the band was just setting up and already the tables were full and bar was two-deep all the way to the stage.
Luckily for us, Tucker had arrived and secured a table near the front already, and he instantly made my list of people when I walked up to a pizza and next to it, a massive plate of nachos drowned in the house specialty, five-alarm chili. No sooner were we seated than a pretty redhead set frosty pints in front of us and asked Daniel if he needed anything else. She laid her hand on his shoulder as she asked, and Tucker and I eye shared an eye-roll at his expense.
I looked Tucker over as Daniel repeatedly tried to gently rebuff the over-interested waitress, doing my best to control the jealousy welling up inside of me. Tucker seemed to be enjoying his brother’s increasing agitation. The corners of his mouth twitched and there was an almost manic gleam in his eyes that made me wonder what I was missing.
In looks, he took more after his father than Daniel did, a younger carbon copy with the same, craggy features and deep-set eyes that were striking, while being just shy of truly handsome. He looked out of place in his charcoal, single-breasted suit, as though he were meant for a rougher existence than an office would provide.
“Seriously, Amanda, what did he offer you if you would hit on me?” Daniel blurted out. I jumped at the sudden explosion of laughter across the table and stared at Tucker, who was wiping a tear from his eye and still chuckling to himself.
“I’m sorry, Amanda. You were great.” He sniggered as he handed her a folded twenty. “I guess you really are in deep, Danny.” He huffed out a breath and grinned at me, while I gaped at him, completely dumbfounded. Daniel sat rigid beside me, unsmiling. I squeezed his thigh under the table and when he looked down at me, I winked and smiled at him.
“You got me, Tuck,” Daniel ground out through his clenched jaw. “I’m in real deep with an amazing girl.” He put his arm around me and I watched Tucker’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline. “Got no time for anyone else with this little beauty around.” I frowned and glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.
“Did you just describe me like I was a new charcoal grill or fishing pole?” I griped. Tucker and Daniel both laughed then.
“Of course not!” he assured me. “I was thinking more like a classic Cadillac convertible, or a 1968 mustang fastback.” He nudged me with his shoulder while I rolled my eyes again.
“Juvenile,” I muttered. “Both of you.” The brothers both ducked their heads, attempting to look chagrined, but I smelled a skunk. “Did you know he was playing you?” I asked my lover as his brother sniggered again from across the table.
“Actually, not at first. Amanda has
always been really…friendly when we came here, I just couldn’t figure why she’d do it now, when I came with you. She’s not that kind of girl. Then I saw the look on Tuck’s face and I knew he was being an ass.” Tucker feigned shock and Daniel waved him off. “You’re a sick bastard, you know that? You knew I wouldn’t disrespect Rachel like that.” Tucker looked at me and nodded his head.
“True story, sis,” he agreed. “I’ve never had my big brother introduce me to a lady-friend before.” He turned to his brother. “I owed you a little embarrassment. I don’t know if I could make us even, but watching you squirm was a salve for me.” Daniel huffed out a breath.
“We don’t have to be even, Tuck. Mistakes were made, on both our parts. I just can’t believe you’d let something like that, someone like that get between us,” Daniel chastised his brother. I held my breath and watched them, praying that this didn’t turn into a fight they couldn’t come back from.
“I loved her, Daniel. I know you didn’t. I know Carl Jameson doesn’t. But, she chose both of you over me, and I would’ve given her everything.” Tucker took a long drink from his bottle. “So, yeah, I feel like I’m entitled to be a little more pissed off at you than the other way around.” Daniel stayed quiet for a long time, and neither brother looked up from their respective drinks.
“You’re right, I didn’t love her. But, if you’d just told me you were seeing the woman, I wouldn’t have given her a second look. So, you be mad all you want. Just be mad at the right person.”
“Be mad at the woman who tricked you into believing she was good enough for you,” I added quietly. “Knowing her, seeing you two torn apart made her happy. I bet nothing would rankle more than seeing that the brothers have both moved on from her.” I gave Daniel’s leg another light squeeze to let him know I was proud of him. “Tucker, I only know you by association. But, that’s enough to know that piece of garbage isn’t worth the energy of being sad over her.”
“Son, I gotta be straight with you,” Tucker fidgeted with his bottle, peeling back the label with his fingernails before tearing it off and rolling it between his finger and thumb. Daniel coughed, and his brother finally continued. “I’m actually seeing someone. I honestly believed I was over that stupidity. Man, Daniel, it’s goddamn hard to have to suck it up every day, knowing I should be partner. I’m not even mad about Sara anymore. I’m just pissed that I left the ranch ready to prove that I didn’t have to live in your shadow, and I haven’t proven shit!”
Daniel rocked back in his seat with a dumbfounded look on his face. Tucker just looked down at his empty beer like it was the most interesting object in the known world. I didn’t know what to say or do. I was stuck in the booth unless I crawled under the table, and that wasn’t looking like such a bad idea.
“So, do you guys want to go outside and throw some punches? Because, I am starving, and I would love for you two to get over your mutual embarrassment at not being the better brother,” I blurted the words out and immediately regretted opening my mouth. I could taste panic at the back of my throat, and my hands were trembling in my lap. Without a word, Daniel’s arms went around me and he kissed the top of my head, then pressed his forehead to mine.
“Sorry, Tuck. My girl has a low stress tolerance, and I think we’ve maxed her out. Maybe we should go and try this another time,” he apologized to his brother, who stared at me wide-eyed and shook his head.
“No, no, please, this is my fault. I owe her an apology, airing dirty laundry like that when we’re just meeting. I’m sorry, Rachel, please eat. In fact, let’s order a fresh set of nachos, those ones are cold and soggy.”
I nodded, although in reality, the moment I felt my hands shake, I was no longer hungry. I focused on them stilling them with techniques I’d been taught to use on skittish horses. Just like those animals that I’d learned were so sensitive to human body language they were almost psychic, I focused on my thoughts to calm my body. I needed to imagine the men in a silly situation.
The band was just starting to play their first set, and it gave me an idea. I pictured them line dancing, the tightly wound lawyer and the workaholic rancher, twirling and kicking up their heels. When I looked up from my now still hands, both men were staring at me.
“What?” I blurted, my face warming under the scrutiny.
“You were grinning about something. We just want to know what it is,” Tucker replied. I glanced at Daniel, but he just shrugged his shoulders and arched an eyebrow at me.
“I was feeling a little, stressed. So, I imagined you two line-dancing. You’re both so uptight it seemed a little ridiculous to me that either of you would dance…and I’m just going to shut up now,” I rambled.
“She thinks we can’t dance,” Tucker gasped. Daniel shook his head, his eyes wide in mock disbelief. “What about you, little darlin’? Do you dance?” Tucker held up a hand to the waitress, Amanda, as she passed by. “Honey, can you please take these back and bring us new ones? And fresh drinks all around, too, please.” Amanda winked at him and sauntered off, the sodden puddle of once-was nachos on her tray.
Daniel took my hand and grinned impishly. Tucker shed his suit coat and encouraged me to leave behind the light sweater I was hugging around my body like a force field. I inched toward Daniel, and he lifted me out of my seat and picked me up under my arms. I jabbed him in the stomach with my elbow before he could drag me onto the dance floor. I shed the sweater and strutted to the warped, wooden planks that made up the 10’ x 10’ floor.
The band started up with “Chattahoochee”, and soon I was swinging in time with a crush of strangers, kicking and turning and repeating the steps without hesitation. Flabbergasted, I watched as Tucker and Daniel improvised, adding more difficult moves to the line and keeping perfectly in time. My neck was damp with a light sheen of sweat by the time the song ended, the high energy music replaced by “Whiskey Lullaby.” As the floor cleared of single folks heading back to their beers, Daniel caught me by the wrist and pulled me in close.
“You are amazing. You know that?” he asked in a low murmur. I shook my head and leaned into him, relishing his broad, muscular chest under my cheek. “You have a strong thread of tenacity in you, I’ll give you that,” he said drily. He tipped my face up and stared into my eyes. “I need you to stay with me.” I felt the corners of my mouth tug up as my face crimsoned.
“I need me to stay with you, too,” I replied, emotion adding gravel to my voice. “There’s a lot that could make this more difficult…” I added. “How long do you think you’re going to feel that way?” I bit my lip, instantly regretting ruining the moment with my fears.
“You’re right. It seems some people don’t want to see either of us happy or happy together. But, if you stay with me, they can’t get to us.” He sighed and glanced toward the table, where Tucker was sitting, chatting with Amanda. “I wish I could fix everything for Tuck. He’s brilliant, and he’s got honor, enough not to shame Sara after everything she did.” Daniel and I swayed to the ballad and he held me close.
“It will all work out in the end,” I reminded him. “It has to. Life can’t always be perfect moments like this one.”
He chuckled and leaned down to kiss me. My knees buckled as his lips parted mine and I hummed my pleasure as he crushed me against his mouth as though no one existed but us. When he pulled away, he grazed my cheek with his mouth and rubbed his thumb over my swollen lips.
“So long as all your future moments are with me, I can handle anything that comes at us,” he growled. I leaned against his chest and we rocked to the music, and I for a moment, I forgot about everything else in the world outside his embrace.
Chapter Sixteen
Daniel
When Rachel and I were on the dancefloor, I noticed the waitress Amanda as she made her rounds. It was pretty apparent after she swung by the third time in less than five minutes that she was the woman Tucker was seeing. Mandy was granddaughter of the original Shelly, and she was working for her parents for the
summer before going back to college. We’d grown up with Mandy and her sisters, and I was only too happy to see Tucker finally reciprocating the feelings she had apparently recently rekindled from our childhood.
The more I watched him trying not to touch her while she worked, the more pleased I was. He had it bad, and finally, we might get past the bullshit that Sara had brought into our lives. However, it made me hesitate to tell him why I had originally called. Frustration coursed through me. Here I was trying to make Rachel safe, and I wanted every asset I had toward that goal. But, if he was happy now, and if helping us with the lawsuit meant coming in contact with Sara’s new boyfriend, Jason-the-angry-drunk, I couldn’t ask it of him.
Rachel could tell that I wasn’t with her anymore, and I hated myself for ruining a perfect evening over people we didn’t want anything to do with. She pulled away and looked at me quizzically. I mentioned that we had fresh, hot food at our table as I watched Mandy deftly slide a steaming platter of chili-drenched nachos into the middle of the table. Rachel grinned and dragged me back to our booth by the hand and filled her plate like any farmhand would.
“Damn, girl. He must have you running the fence line to have an appetite like that.” Tuck laughed. Rachel only nodded as she washed down a mouthful with her beer. “Does her ever actually work anymore, or is he getting fat behind his desk?” he inquired, laughing as she choked a little on her amber ale.
“We don’t see him much when we’re mucking or fixing fence rails. But, he’s always one of the first to the table. Probably just because the office is closer,” Rachel teased, shooting my brother a grin. “Hey, Tucker, you’re a lawyer, right?” Rachel changed the subject quickly, before I could add to the insults being passed around. Tuck nodded, and she went quiet. She had a thoughtful look on her face, and I was wondering what she could be thinking.
“I heard through the grapevine…in other words, from the old gossips y’all call field hands…that my ex-boyfriend is trying to make your family responsible for an accident he caused after a party last weekend. The police had come and talked to my family and me, and we told them everything we saw, but I got the feeling they weren’t really listening.” She paused and looked up at me, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t want to see your family’s name get dragged through the mud by some trust fund-baby who never learned to be a man.
