Curvy for Him: The Lawyer and the Cowboy

by Winters, Annabelle

  I snort and shake my head. Emmitt and I are around the same age, but he looks ten years older. Our paths diverged years ago, and although I wouldn’t say we’re enemies, we ain’t friends either. “Sounds like you’re doing well, Emmitt. Good for you,” I say cordially, my eyes narrowing as I think back to the rift between our families—a rift that stretches back over a hundred years, back to when our families first staked their claims on this frontier land. “Found any oil yet?” I say, almost biting my lip as I let the taunt slip. I know he’s been buying up the available land outside the city in the hopes that there’s oil under there, oil that will make him a billionaire. Of course, if there was oil on this land, the big corporations would own it all by now. No way in hell he’s found any—not if he’s now buying up shitty city blocks in some hope this town will rise from the ashes. Asshole’s living in the past; but hey, in a way so am I. Live and let live.

  “Nah,” rasps Emmitt, chewing on his tobacco and taking a step closer. I stand my ground, don’t give up a fucking inch even as I feel Cass stiffen behind me. “You?”

  I grin even though I know I’ve made a mistake by saying what I did, by getting into it with Emmitt. He’s wanted to buy my land for years, offered me more than fair market value several times. But that land’s a part of who I am. There’s no price at which I’ll sell. “I ain’t started looking,” I say with a shrug, a perverse energy rising up in me. Maybe I’ve been out of society for too damned long. It’s almost like I’m itching for a fight. I need to be the bigger man and step it down here, but instead I step up like a hotheaded young cowboy. “Will let you know if I find any,” I whisper with a lopsided grin, taunting him with my eyes as I feel the bartender back away from the scene like this is about to turn into an 1870s-style shootout!

  Emmitt holds my gaze, steadying his eyes as we square off with an intensity that seems unwarranted, almost ridiculous. But it’s real, and when a man looks me in the eye, I don’t look away first. I don’t submit. I don’t bow. I don’t back down.

  The tension is rising, and suddenly my awareness shifts to Cass sitting on the barstool behind me, shielded by my broad body. I’m still staring at Emmitt, my eyes locked in on his gray slits. But my mind is on Cass, and I feel the tension slip out of me in the strangest way. The adrenaline is still flowing, but instead of signaling danger, it seems to be filling my body with a peace I’ve never known, a sense of being complete.

  It occurs to me that I’m holding a fiercely protective stance in front of Cass, even though she’s not in any danger. She’s bringing out something in me. She’s bringing out the man in me. The man I thought was dead. That old world cowboy spirit that runs in my bloodline. It’s almost like I want to fight for her—fight anyone and everyone for her!

  That’s caveman, not cowboy, I tell myself as I feel my fists clench, my jaw tighten, my muscles harden even though my heart is bouncing with unadulterated joy. I see Emmitt narrow his eyes and cock his head, and finally he blinks and forces a nervous laugh.

  “Hah!” he says, shaking his head and swiping his hand between us like he’s trying to downplay that he’s lost our macho battle of wills. “Yeah, all right, Cade. You do that. Let me know when you find oil, and we’ll go into business together.”

  “I’m not a businessman,” I say, my jaw still tight, my fists still clenched.

  “Every man does business when the price is right,” he says. Then he turns to the bartender and snaps his fingers. “Put his drinks on my tab.”

  Without another word Emmitt turns on his boot heel and walks out of the bar, but not before shooting a glance at Cass sitting behind me. My anger flashes at that one look, and again I frown at this strange mix of emotions flowing through me. Slowly I turn to Cass, and when I look into her big brown eyes, see the way they’re wide like she’s wondering what the hell is going on too, I know what I need to do. I know what comes next.

  I take Cass’s hand firmly, pulling until she slides off the stool and stands in front of me, still looking up into my eyes. Then I slip my arm around her waist and without another word lead her to the door, to my truck, to my life.

  4

  CASS

  What just happened to my life, I wonder as Cade drives us out of town. He hasn’t said a word to me since that strangely tense moment in the bar—a moment when I felt my life change, felt like I was being transported to another time, another place, perhaps another freakin’ dimension!

  “My stuff is in my hotel room,” I say absentmindedly, desperately trying to regain some control over my wandering mind. The only way I can do it is by trying to be logical. Practical.

  “You don’t need it,” Cade says, his voice calm and controlled.

  I look over at him and blink. Does he mean he has clothes and a toothbrush for me? Or am I going to be killed like in every story that starts with a fat chick getting into some dude’s pickup truck? I look back over at him as I try to figure out what’s happening. Am I being kidnapped? Am I being abducted? Or am I just crazy for getting into this man’s truck and letting him drive me to . . .

  “Where are we going?” I ask, my voice trembling as we leave the city in our dust.

  “Home,” he says without even flinching.

  I blink again as my heart almost stops. I hear the certainty in his voice, and it terrifies me as much as it excites me. Who is this man?! What world is he living in? He kissed me without asking, declared that I was his, and is now driving us to a place he simply calls “home”! Isn’t this how psycho killer movies start?! Am I the insecure chubby chick who gets in the handsome serial killer’s van and innocently does what he says until he skins me alive and wears my head like a helmet as he dances around naked under a full moon?!

  My heart is beating faster, and I look down at my phone and wonder if I should call someone. Anyone. A friend, maybe. Tell her where I’m at, just in case. Maybe I should just straight up call the police! What are you doing, Cass?! You’re smart and logical! You don’t fall for this crap! You don’t fall for this over-the-top possessive macho shit! And even if you did, it wouldn’t be after one fucking look, one goddamn kiss! Life isn’t a cheesy romance novel—not that you ever read that shit anyway!

  I’m jolted out of my paranoid daydream as Cade smoothly pulls the truck down a small private road and then stops in a clearing. It’s a parking lot, I realize when I see two other trucks—exactly the same make, model and color as the one we’re in right now but clearly from different years.

  “That was my grandfather’s,” Cade says, pointing at the oldest truck, which I swear looks like it was one of the first cars ever built. It’s still in impeccable shape, detailed and shining, and although that should be a red flag that this guy is an obsessive freak, it doesn’t because I hear the pride in his voice. “That was my father’s,” he says, looking over at the second one. “And this is mine,” he finally says.

  I can’t help but smile at the way he said what he did. There’s an innocence to him that totally breaks my guard down in the most unexpected way, and immediately I know this man won’t hurt me, can’t hurt me, would die before hurting me. I look upon his ruggedly handsome face, a face that’s seen the sun of summer, weathered the winds of winter, smiled at the rain of spring. He’s older than I am, but there’s a boylike innocence hidden deep within the man he is, an innocence that he’s hiding, an innocence that I can see scares him because it makes him vulnerable. I don’t know how the hell I know all that, but I do. I know it like I know myself.

  “I don’t allow motorized vehicles any farther,” he says, pulling on his Stetson and squinting at the setting sun. He points at a wooden structure that looks to be about a mile away. “Come,” he says, holding his hand out and looking me in the eye.

  I blink as I hear his tone. It’s gentle but commanding, the tone you might use with a horse or a child. I should be insulted, but I’m not. I think back to what little I know about Cade, about how no one’
s seen him in years. That would explain why he’s so strangely quiet. It would also explain why when he does speak, it’s with the confidence of a man who controls his environment, a man who lives in nature, in harmony with nature and not in opposition to it.

  But nature isn’t really my thing, I think as I plant my heels in the dirt and look towards that wooden building in the distance. Is that his home? Some wooden shack in the freakin’ middle of nowhere? Ohmygod, I’m gonna die, aren’t I?!

  He glances down at my feet and grunts. “We’ll have to get you some new shoes,” he says thoughtfully as he rubs his chin. Then he nods once and takes my hand, the contact sending a shiver through me. “I’ll make you some when we get home.”

  I glance up at him, closing one eye as I try to figure out if he’s messing with me. He looks serious, and again I wonder what the hell I’m getting into. A cowboy who lives in some wooden shack and makes his own shoes?! I look down at his boots. “Um, you make shoes?” I say awkwardly, the question sounding strange.

  He smiles and raises one foot. “Yup,” he says. “Based on the design of Native American moccasins. Single sheet of leather. No heel. Heels are murder on the back.”

  I glance down at my heels as Cade tightens his grip on my hand and leads me down the path. The sun is behind us now, and I see our shadows on the path in front of us. It looks surreal. There I am, my curves clearly drawn on the earth, a tall cowboy holding my hand and leading me to God-knows-where. I blink as I feel my gut twist, that strange mixture of fear and excitement, a sense that I’m at some kind of crossroads in my life, that if I keep walking down this path with Cade my life as I know it is going to change forever. Do I want that? Am I nuts? I don’t know! How can I know?!

  “Cade . . .” I say as we walk together, hand in hand, nothing but endless earth and open sky around us. “What are we . . . what am I . . .”

  “Do you believe in destiny, Cass?” he says quietly, looking straight ahead as he shortens his strides so I can keep pace with him.

  “I . . . I don’t think so,” I say.

  “OK,” he says, taking a breath as we walk. Then he stops in his tracks, sliding his arm around my waist and pulling me close. “Then how do you explain that?” he whispers, looking over towards our left.

  I follow his gaze and gasp when I see what he’s looking at: Two rattlesnakes moving together through the dirt, somehow perfectly aligned with each other. I glance back at our own shadows, the two of us walking together in lockstep. I feel dizzy, like I’m gonna faint or something. This day has been way too much already. What the hell am I doing?! Where am I going with this man?! Why is he talking about freakin’ rattlesnakes?

  “Explain what?” I say, shuddering at the sight of the snakes. I’m not easily frightened, but hey, snakes aren’t my thing.

  “Explain how they found each other,” Cade says quietly, stopping and smiling as he stares at the two snakes moving together, their bodies gliding over each other’s in a mesmerizing way.

  I blink as I glance once again at our own shadows, a man and woman drawn in silhouette on the ground. And then I can’t take it. It’s too much. Just too freakin’ much! Getting fired in the courtroom, almost losing my shit and taking a drink, this silent cowboy “tracking” me there and stopping me from losing control. And the kiss. Right. The kiss!

  It’s happening again, I think as I remember how I jumped into a relationship back when I was an insecure teenager who latched on to the first guy who showed an interest in me. I thought I was in love, but it was really just fear driving me, fear that he was the best I could do, that I should just settle. It was my choice that landed me in a toxic relationship, a marriage that was dead before the honeymoon was over, a divorce that’s been draining me, reminding me that there’s nothing to blame but my own choices.

  A choice that I’m making again when I’m vulnerable, insecure, turned around.

  No.

  Just, no.

  “I . . . I can’t,” I stammer, suddenly feeling like the setting sun is really hot. Like really hot. Slowly I push his hand away as I take deep breaths and look around. And then I’m running. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m running. In my goddamn heels and business skirt, my ass bouncing, my boobs jiggling, my world spinning round and round like a carousel, spitting up images of my whole life, all my choices, all my mistakes, all my insecurities, my fears, my hopes, dreams, ambitions, secrets . . .

  And then I feel it.

  Sharp. Unmistakable. Real.

  I scream as I feel two fangs sink into my meaty calf muscle, and before I even look I know what’s happened. It’s almost like I knew it was going to happen, like I wanted it to happen, like I needed something to make the choice for me because it’s so fucking terrifying.

  I swear I feel my mouth twist into a smile as I swoon and then fall. I didn’t hear the rattlesnake’s warning, and I frown as I think that’s strange. Did I step on it? Am I dreaming? Hallucinating? Sure. Why not.

  I’m still falling, and I wonder why it’s taking so long for my body to hit the hard ground. Again I get that sense like I’m travelling through time, and I sigh as the image of those two snakes moving together swirls through my mind as the poison gets into my bloodstream.

  I blink as I see the ground rushing up to meet me, and I decide I’m going to die. Strangely, I’m totally at peace with it. So I just spread my arms out wide and prepare to fall flat on my face.

  But of course I don’t.

  I don’t, because he’s there to catch me.

  5

  CADE

  I catch her before she hits the ground, my gaze scanning the surroundings for the snake. I don’t see it. I didn’t hear it either, which is strange. But this isn’t the time to ponder the mysteries of the goddamn natural world, I tell myself as I lower Cass to the ground and pull her into my body, cradling her head on my lap as I whip my shirt off.

  “Lie back,” I say, balling up my shirt and placing it under her head like a pillow. “Keep your head elevated so the blood doesn’t flow up to your heart. You’re going to be fine, Cass. Just take slow, long breaths. I’ve got you, Cass. I’ve got you.”

  I glance quickly at her face as my mind races. I keep anti-venom in all my trucks and in all my saddlebags. It takes less than a second to realize that we’re closer to my stables than the parking lot, and I nod firmly as I make a decision.

  One more look to make sure her head is elevated, her chest is moving, she’s not going into shock. No, her breathing is slow, steady, her chest rising and falling like the rolling hills. Then I’m down by her feet, pulling off her shoes, my mouth closing on the two telltale fang-marks on her smooth leg. I start to suck, pulling the poison out of her and into me, taking as much as I can before spitting and doing it again as she mutters something.

  After three rounds I look up at her, blinking as I do my best not to follow the line of sight up past her beautiful thighs, her exposed ass, tight black panties riding up in there in a way that makes me groan. I close my eyes and shake my head. A gentleman doesn’t look up a woman’s skirt when she’s vulnerable, exposed, at a moment of weakness. And you’re going to be a gentleman with this woman, Cade. No matter how badly you want to be an animal. No matter how certain you are she’s yours. Take it slow. Do it right. This is important. This is where a man defines his character, Cade. How does a man behave when there’s no one looking?

  “All right,” I say, going up on my knees and sliding my leather belt out from its loops. Quickly I snake it around her leg, just above the bite, pulling it tight and securing it so it slows any poison that I’ve missed from moving to the rest of her body. “All right, Cass. Relax. I’ve got you.”

  I get to my feet, bend down, and lift her carefully up into my arms, glancing at the parking lot to my left and the stables to my right. It feels like I’m at a crossroads here, like my next choice is going to matter. Parking lot, truck,
hospital to the left. Stable, horse, and home to the right. Which way, Cade? Which fucking way?

  “Home,” comes her voice, and I flick my eyes over to the woman in my arms, wondering if I’m hearing things. One look at Cass’s face and I see she’s delirious, muttering as her eyelids flutter. “I just wanna go home,” she’s whispering. “Just take me home.”

  Without a word I nod, and then I’m running with Cass in my arms, her head against my chest, her body snuggled against me. I feel my feet flying across the ground, and I swear I hear two rattles in the background. I know that sound. It’s not a warning. It’s the sound of those two snakes becoming one, joining together the way nature intended, following their instincts without question.

  I’m at the stables in a heartbeat, and I kick open the door and stumble inside. I race to a bale of hay and carefully set Cass down before darting to where I keep the anti-venom. A moment later I’ve injected it into her, and I exhale as I toss the syringe into a bin and pull Cass into me, stroking her hair and kissing her head, comforting her, reassuring her that it’s going to be OK, that Cade’s gonna take care of it, take care of her, take care of everything.

  “Are we home yet?” she whispers, nuzzling into my chest, her breath warm against my bare skin. I grin and shake my head, glancing toward my horses. I keep three of them at this stable, but two are out in the pasture. There’s just one still here, and it’s my filly. She’s standing patiently, looking at the two of us with her big brown eyes.

  “You gonna carry both of us?” I ask the filly, glancing past her at my massive stallion over in the distance. I’d prefer to take the stallion, since I don’t know if the filly will handle the two of us. But it’s the filly that’s here, and my jaw drops as I watch the brown horse nod once and then lower herself to the hay-lined ground of the stable!