by Wild Horses
Chapter Five
Dani spent her days in filthy jeans, boots scuffed up within hours of putting them on, and a Stetson that seemed to blow off her head more than it stayed on.
How Adam Cooper could wear the damn hat no matter the weather and have it always stay in place—even when galloping down the field on a horse—was beyond her.
And made her dislike him even more.
She was always sweat drenched, filthy, smelling like damn horses, and then he’d bark an order at her, still looking all ruggedly put together and her whole body would heat up with want. For the longest while, she expelled some of that irritation by flipping him off the moment his back was turned, but then Dewey once saw her and laughed, causing Cooper to turn around and catch her. Then there was reprimanding, and threats to go to Gus about it, and eventually she was put on stall duty, left to cart manure from the barn and sweep up everything left over.
At least she’d been able to write up a few blog posts, even if she couldn’t publish them yet, and every night that was what she did: chronicled the highlights, sometimes including a few photos she’d snapped with her phone. Thursday night, exhaustion hit her hard, but she recorded a vlog about it—with Jenny the silly ranch Doberman flopped on the bed next to her—staying up long enough to film everything but falling asleep sprawled across the bed editing the video together.
She just couldn’t post anything and it was driving her mad.
And then things got worse when the barrel racers started to show up.
Early Friday morning, she stood on the front porch with her cup of coffee loaded with cream, sugar, and ice cubes—the closest she was getting to an iced latte—sipping the drink and blinking against the rising sun, trying to wake up. The air was cooler than it would be in the day and she was starting to finally feel like she was fitting into the part she’d come to play. Her skinny jeans were scuffed around the knees but clean, boots worn in and comfortable. A short-sleeved, blue plaid shirt was tied at her abdomen to reveal her navel and white tank top. The Stetson hung on her back from the strap around her neck and she’d started to get used to it there. Her nails were a damn mess—she’d broken down, removed the nail polish, and not repainted them—and she’d stopped wearing makeup, but it was sort of fun being a farm girl.
When she wasn’t shoveling manure. Or being dragged by horses. Or stepped on. Or touching gross horse tongues for the purpose of medicine.
Light glinted in the distance, early morning sun striking metal as a vehicle turned down the long driveway. Behind the gleaming red truck was a black horse trailer, wheels spitting up dirt and gravel as they went.
Dani stiffened, her stomach twisting. The show was tomorrow—why would people be arriving now?
As the truck turned in a half circle, putting it three yards from the ranch porch, the door behind Dani opened and Cooper stepped out with a grin.
A real grin. One lighting his whole face—crinkling the skin around his eyes and lips, brightening his expression. He almost looked like an entirely different person.
Her heart thudded hard as she watched him step off the porch, not giving her a second look, to go to the idling truck.
The driver turned off the engine and stepped out. She was tall—taller than Dani, though not Cooper’s height—with a head of lustrous, poker straight brown hair that reached her elbows. She was dressed similar to Danyiah though looked far more at ease in it.
The Hot New White Chick rounded the truck, mouth in a huge smile, and leaned against the hood. “Hey! Good to see you!”
Cooper stopped a few feet in front of her, still grinning.
Irritation flickered in Dani while they made eyes at one another.
So he has a girlfriend. Or something. Are you surprised? No. Do you care? No. So stop being jealous.
Besides, she wasn’t jealous. Not at all.
She swallowed a mouthful of her iced coffee and it tasted sour.
“He took the ride well,” the woman was saying as she led Cooper toward the trailer.
The porch door opened and closed behind Dani; she glanced over her shoulder to see Dewey, Jenny racing past him to sniff out the new truck. He came to stand next to her and whistled low between his teeth. “Well. She’s early.”
“Who is she?” She forced her tone to be casual but it wasn’t convincing.
“Carlee Birch. Barrel racer. One of the best around here.”
Wonderful. “And she’s here early because...?”
Dewey shrugged. “A few just do. You’ll see them arrive throughout the day, get their horses settled and a tent set up—a few of them that come early all camp out there.” He gestured over his shoulder to a spot between the outdoor arena and the ranch house. “She’s, uh, very early, though. Must’ve been driving since five this morning.”
Dani swallowed dryly and eyed her coffee but didn’t much feel like taking a sip. “Why would she do that? Excited for the show?”
“Or about seeing someone.” Dewey winked at her.
Her stomach turned.
“She’ll be staying until Tuesday, too—helping at Riding Camp, teaching some of the kids basic stuff.”
Oh joy of joys.
He waved at Carlee, then returned to the house, screen door swinging shut loudly in his wake.
Dani scowled.
Carlee and Cooper led a sleek, chestnut gelding with a white seven blazing on his forehead from the trailer.
“What a good boy!” Carlee declared as she ran her hand down his neck. “That’s my Sweet Pea.”
Dani’s gaze swiveled to the trailer where, in white letters with an abstract horse logo, it actually said, “Sweet Pea.”
Dear God, that poor horse.
Carlee led the horse toward the field, talking to Cooper the whole way.
Dani dumped the rest of her iced coffee in the garden and went back inside.
****
Dani was tasked with taking a truck into Stirling Falls, grocery list in hand, to pick up things for the festivities the next day. Snacks. Drinks. Paper plates and plastic cups. Goodies from the dollar store for the kids coming. She went through the stores, pushing a heavy cart and trying not to mutter under her breath.
The truck bed was brimming with plastic bags and boxes of things, strapped down for the duration of the trip, and she parked it with care right in front of the house. Thankfully, she was able to do so because Carlee’s vehicle and trailer was nowhere to be seen. Keys still swinging in the ignition, she reached for her door and glanced out the window.
And stopped.
Cooper and Dewey stood several yards away, repairing the outdoor training ring under Gus’s direction. Fresh wood, cut to the same length and stripped of bark so it stood out starkly yellow rather than weathered gray, was stacked to the side while the men worked. Dewey wore a T-shirt still but Cooper had discarded his, working bare-chested.
Oh. My.
He was built. This she knew just by looking at him, just by being near him and letting her gaze trail over his chest the last few days, but...
Day-am!
Sweat glistened on his tanned torso, on the smattering of dark hair over his chest. His jeans sat low on his hips, denim hugging him like it had sentience and appreciated exactly where it was.
He lifted one of the posts and thrust it into the ground, gesturing at Dewey for something—
Carlee’s head popped into view. “Need help?”
Dani blinked. Damn you. “Sure.”
The other woman got out of the way long enough for Dani to climb out of the truck, and the two of them gathered grocery bags from the back. The air was tense between them, neither saying anything—not even Carlee, who was the instigator after all.
Arms loaded with groceries, bag handles cutting into her hands, Dani followed Carlee up the porch steps, but glanced once over her shoulder at the men working.
Cooper’s gaze met hers, as if he’d been watching her retreat.
Of course, maybe that was Carlee’s retreat. Dani sho
ok her head and went inside.
Chapter Six
Oh, Adam had been watching her.
In fact, he was having trouble taking his eyes off of her the past few days.
He told himself he was just watching to see if she was doing anything new that was stupid, but after the first two days, she’d managed to follow instructions without screwing up too badly. So that wasn’t it.
No, he enjoyed too much watching her strut around the farm in jeans that clutched her tight enough to show off every curve and the bit of cleavage peeking out from her tank top. He liked her eyes getting angry and pretty mouth pulling into a frown. Energy came off her in waves when they got arguing and he wanted to grab her, claim her, kiss her until they were both lost.
But something niggled him, still. Something Gus wasn’t telling him. Why she was really here—what was going on. And, too, there was the small matter of her quite blatantly saying she hated him more than a few times while he was in earshot.
No, nothing could—or should—ever come of this attraction, so he shoved it from his mind and focused on the task at hand. They nearly had the repairs done to the training ring—that had to be done first. Two more racers—a pair of twin sisters who’d been at it for years—were expected within the hour, and they had to get things done.
“I think Dewey’s got it,” Gus called, and gestured to the building farther down the path between the house and barn. Empty beneath for social gatherings, and upstairs was Adam’s quarters. “Get Dani working on decorating the meeting house. I want that done so there’s nothing to worry about tomorrow.”
He nodded and avoided Gus’s gaze. Tomorrow everyone would be run ragged and decorating would be the last thing on anyone’s mind.
Adam grabbed his T-shirt and dragged it over his sweat-soaked neck as he stalked back to the house. No voices sounded inside, but the rustle of bags drew him to the kitchen.
Carlee was in there instead of Danyiah, gathering up empty bags and rolling them together. She grinned at him, left the bags on the breakfast bar, and strolled over. “Hey.”
“Hi.” He glanced around again. “Jackson?”
“Taking some things to the freezer in the basement.” Carlee leaned in the kitchen doorframe, her thick bangs shifting and nearly cutting over her eyes. “She’s not very friendly.”
“Friend of Gus’s or something,” he said mildly.
“How long is she here?”
Yet another question he’d been unable to ascertain an answer to. He parted his lips to speak when the basement door slammed just behind him.
Speak of the devil. She had a demonic glare to her eyes, too.
Yep. Nothing going anywhere between us.
He cleared his throat and tried to look just as stern. “Gus wants you to decorate the meeting hall for the dance and that tomorrow.”
“With what? Am I supposed to make decorations with toilet paper and glitter?”
Jesus, she was in an even pissier mood than usual. He ground his teeth. “No, there are decorating supplies in the damn building. Of course, I could decorate it, if you’d rather head out there and build a fence in my stead.”
She glowered.
Carlee wisely took a step back.
“Fine!” Dani gestured toward the door and gave a mock bow. “Lead the way.”
Adam was going to pull his hair out at any minute.
He strode out the front door, into the almost liquid June heat, still carting his T-shirt clutched tightly in his fist. She followed, all but right on his damn heels, down the winding path to the building in question.
The wraparound porch groaned under their steps. He swung the screen door open and unlocked the inner one to let her inside.
Bulbs hung from the open rafters. He didn’t bother turning them on—it wasn’t needed with the bright sunlight streaming through the open windows. Several long tables were stacked to one side while chairs were stacked to the other. Half a dozen boxes sat on the floor near the door, all marked DECORATIONS.
He pulled the spare key from his pocket and pressed it into her palm. Desire snaked through his body at the contact, at having her so near, and his heart thumped hard. For several moments, as she gazed up at him, kissable lips slightly parted, he completely forgot what he’d been planning to say.
Adam gave himself a mental shake and dropped his hand again while her fingers coiled around the key. “You’re in charge of this room tomorrow. Lock up today when you leave, and tomorrow before the guests arrive. The room will be open to the public in the evening, so you’ll need to make sure the food and drink supplies are in there then. No one goes in or out until then. Got it?”
She nodded and tucked the key in her pocket.
He gestured to the boxes. “There you go. Have fun, princess.”
To the far left, behind a curtain, lay the stairs to his loft apartment above, and he brushed past her, headed straight there.
“Where are you going?” she said immediately.
Like it was any of her damn business. “Upstairs—where I live—to shower. Can you not handle some balloons and streamers on your own for a bit?”
She glowered and bent over in answer, jerking the lid off the box and offering him a view of her extremely fine backside.
Adam shook his head and jogged upstairs in a hurry. Yes, a shower.
A very, very cold one.
****
Dani heard Carlee’s laughter outside and the splash of water. Days had been so exhausting, Dani hadn’t made it to the pool yet, and now her opinion of it was quite sour. Dewey certainly implied there was something there between her and Adam, right? The way Carlee looked at him...
All day, she put up with it. Carlee helping—with utter grace and ease, of course—with the horses. Hanging off Adam’s every word. Following him around. It was hit or miss having him around at dinner time, but he sure as hell was there tonight—all showered and shaved, cleaned up, sitting next to Carlee.
Dani kind of wanted to stab the woman with a fork, which wasn’t fair at all, but then she didn’t have two hundred thousand monthly visitors to her blog by being nice and fair about things.
She rolled over in bed, letting out a frustrated growl, and gripped her pillow as she glared into the darkness. It shouldn’t bother her. Shouldn’t. She didn’t like Cooper, after all. And he had nothing but contempt for her as well.
But she couldn’t deny how her body warmed at the sight of him, or how an electric current seemed to run through her skin at any physical contact. He was a cocky son of a bitch, yes, but her body craved him more and more every day.
She couldn’t sleep. Not with the damn noise out there. She crawled out of bed in her short shorts and tank top, and padded over toward the window to close it. It might get stifling in there, but there was an overhead fan to turn on at night when the A.C. was off—she’d just have to use it.
The gauzy curtains fluttered in the night breeze as she reached the window, parting so she could see outside. The pool wasn’t far from her bedroom window, the interior of it lit and giving the space there a blue hue. Carlee was laughing and treading water in place, looking up. Dani followed her gaze to Cooper.
To Adam.
Shirtless, in just a pair of swimming trunks, it was clear—again—how well he was cut: corded muscle, broad shoulders, skin deliciously tanned. Her gaze traveled over him, taking in every inch, settling on his ass beneath damp shorts clinging to him.
She swallowed dryly, realized every part of her was warm—and getting pretty wet. Dani gave herself a mental shake and pulled the window closed at last, and slumped against it with a sigh.
Damn it. She wanted Adam Cooper.
She didn’t like him. Insisted she didn’t, would never believe that she could. But the other side of hating him seemed to be desire.
Stupid. Stupid. Think of something else. Anyone else.
Dani yanked on the cord in the center of the room and the fan began to spin. She slumped back on the bed and under the sheet, her head
sinking into the fluffy pillow, and closed her eyes.
But Adam Cooper was still there and she couldn’t get rid of him.
She imagined standing at the window, staring longingly at his wet, taut body moving in the lights from the pool, and how her nipples pebbled and breathing went staccato. He’d sense something amiss, turn and see her there. She would blush hotly, terrified to move, and then he’d disappear from the poolside.
A moment later, her bedroom door would open, creaking softy in the still night. She’d be by the window, still, as he shut the door and said nothing as he crossed the room. Oh, she’d tell him to get out, but wouldn’t mean it—and he’d know it. He’d reach for her and her body would yield, arching into him as he kissed her at last.
Her hands moved up to massage her breasts through the thin fabric of her tank top, imagining they were his hands grasping her roughly. Her nipples ached and she dipped her hands under the shirt next to touch them.
She bit her lip to keep in a moan. Adam would drag his teeth down her throat, his five o’clock shadow sending shivers over her soft skin and he’d whisper against her ear, saying he wanted to hear her. In reality, she wasn’t about to make a sound and kept her lips sealed tight, but in the fantasy she cried out his name.
He’d be hard against her, erection thick and long, aching to be in her as much as she wanted him. As her own hand delved down, under the sheets and past the waistband of her pajama shorts, she imagined his doing the same. Her own fingers were soft and small; his would be large and calloused, circling her clit.
Adam would tell her to say it, tell her to admit she wanted him. She’d deny. Tease. But pinned against the wall under his weight, two of his fingers thrusting into her, she’d come undone and say it all. That she wanted him. Needed to feel him inside her over and over again until she came.
Her pajama shorts would give as he wrenched them away, baring her to him, then his would fall and he’d be there, at her entrance, sliding past her folds in one swift thrust.
