Inside, the women at the front desk confirmed it wasn’t just me. Their eyes feasted on the bulge of his biceps as he carried our injured passenger to the front desk. He was quite the sight. I started to smile. Until he spoke.
“My friend slammed her BMW into this little guy while she was trying to get a grip on her vibrator.” He smirked at me and winked at the receptionist. She blushed. I wanted to punch him.
“I’d like to get him checked out. I didn’t think I hit him, but he just seems…off.”
Chance snickered and mumbled under his breath, “He’s not the only one.”
Fifteen minutes later, we finally saw a doctor. He checked out the goat as if it were an everyday occurrence. One hand held him down on the examining table, the other pressed on his belly, checked his eyes, and wiggled all four legs. It seemed like a thorough physical to me.
“Everything seems to check out just fine. He has the usual congenital myotonic symptoms, and he probably suffered from a thiamin deficiency at some point. But those conditions don’t come from a car accident. In fact, I don’t see any signs that this little guy was even hit. It was probably just the fainting.”
“The fainting?”
The doctor chuckled. “This here is what is commonly known as a fainting goat. It’s a genetic disorder. Popular around these parts. Some farmers even show them. They faint when they get nervous. All the muscles in their bodies freeze up, and they basically just tip over. Only lasts about ten seconds. Doesn’t cause any pain, but it’s unusual to see for the first time.”
“But…he’s confused, too. When he got up, he walked straight into my car. And kept banging into things during the drive here.”
“Well, that’s likely because he’s blind, too.”
“Blind?”
“Thiamin deficiency, I’d guess. Unfortunately, it’s becoming a more common problem. Improper feeding, particularly too much grain and too little roughage. Greedy farmer trying to fatten up the animal quickly. One of the side effects of the deficiency is blindness.”
“Let me get this straight,” Chance said with a skeptical tone. “We didn’t hit the goat, but he faints when he’s scared and he’s blind.”
“That’s right.”
Chance erupted in laughter. It was the second time I’d seen him lose it in the last twenty-four hours. His chest heaved, and a deep throaty sound echoed through the room. I couldn’t help it. It got to me. Next thing I knew, I was hysterically laughing. too. We laughed so hard, tears streamed down our faces.
“What are we supposed to do with him?” Chance chuckled as he spoke to the doctor.
“Whatever you want, I suppose.”
“Where do we bring him?”
“Bring him?”
“Is there, like, a shelter for animals we can bring him to?”
“For goats? Not that I’m aware of. Although there are quite a few farmers around. You can probably get one of them to take him in as part of their herd.”
“The same type of farmer that tried to fatten him up to make a quick buck and blinded the poor thing?” I asked.
“Well, there are good farmers out there and bad. Just like anything else.”
“And how do we tell the good from the bad?”
The doctor shrugged. “You don’t.”
We’d been in the car almost ten hours already. Chance was driving, and our new passenger was sound asleep in the back seat, actually snoring. I didn’t even know goats snored. “We should stop soon. It might take us a while to find a hotel that allows pets.”
Chance’s eyebrows shot up. “Pets? You think we’re going to find a hotel in the middle of nowhere that accepts goats?”
“What choice do we have?”
“He’s staying in the car tonight, Aubrey.”
“He most certainly is not.” I folded my arms over my chest. “He cannot stay locked in a car overnight.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” I was angry he was ready to leave the goat in the car without so much as a blink of an eye. “Because what if he gets scared?”
“Then he’ll faint.” Chance chuckled.
“That’s not funny.”
“Sure it is. Come on, Aubrey. Lighten up. Your being uptight is what got us into this mess in the first place.”
I had no idea where it came from; the confession just blurted itself from my lips, “I pleasure myself. Okay? Does that make you happy to hear?”
Chance grinned. “As a matter of fact, it does.” He shrugged. “I pleasure myself too, Aubrey. In fact, the next time I rub one out, I’m going to picture you.”
He did not just say that? I was appalled. But also sort of turned on. I opened my mouth to say something back to him, then closed it. Then opened it.
Chance glanced over at me and then back to the road. “Well, well, well. Aubrey, babe. Whatta ya know. You fancy me pleasuring myself to your pretty face.”
“I do not.”
“You do, too.”
“I do not.” I totally do.
Surprisingly, Chance let it drop. He pulled off to the side of the road into a parking lot of what looked like a nicer version of Wal-Mart. It was an oversized warehouse of a store, only the front had a stone façade. Cabela’s The World’s Foremost Outfitters.
“What are we stopping for?”
“Supplies.” He parked the car. “I’ll be out in ten minutes. You can stay with Billy the Kid so no one steals him.”
I was outside the car stretching when Chance returned, both of his arms filled with bags. I bent at the waist, finishing a rotation of stretches and leaned to my right to greet him.
“What is all that?”
He didn’t respond for a minute. I bobbed up and down slightly, leaning into my bend and then looked up at his face to find what had made him quiet. He was looking right down my shirt. It wasn’t his fault; I was basically putting it on display right before his eyes. My shirt gaped in the front giving him an eyeful of my cleavage. I stopped bouncing. Eventually, his eyes lifted and found mine watching him. Our eyes locked. I knew that look. I’d seen it before. In the mirror after I’d gotten a look at his ass.
He shook his head and blinked a few times. “Gear.”
“What kind of gear?”
“Tent, lantern, kindling wood, sleeping bags.” He shrugged. “Basic camping supplies.”
“For what?”
“Camping.”
“You’re going camping?”
He shook his head and shoved the bags wherever he could find any free space. The trunk and backseat were packed to the brim when I started this trip. And now I had an extra passenger, a goat…and apparently camping gear. “We’re going camping.”
“Ummm…I don’t camp.”
“Then Curry over here.” He pointed to the backseat. “Is sleeping in the car.” Chance closed the trunk, and his hands went to his hips. “What’s it going to be, Aubrey? Camping or he sleeps in the car alone.”
Apparently I was going camping. There’s a first time for everything.
Chapter Five
“I take it you’ve done this before?” We’d only been at the campsite for a half hour, and Chance had already started a fire and was almost done pitching the first tent.
“Every summer with my family. My dad took my sister and I camping every year in the Outback. Best memories of my life. It wasn’t fake camping like this, either.”
“Fake?”
“No numbered campsites, bathrooms and security. We did real camping. What about you? What soured you to camping?”
“Nothing. I’ve just never done it before.” Chance finished putting up the first tent and stepped back, admiring his handywork. “That tent’s huge.”
“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” he snickered.
I shook my head. “Why did you buy such big tents?”
“Damn it!” Chance yelled as he swatted a mosquito from his face. The boisterous sudden rant scared poor Esmerelda Snowflake, and she froze in place and proceeded to tip
over and faint. We got a good laugh over that one.
Chance threw some more wood on the fire and sat down. “What about the other tent?” I asked, looking over the fire at him. I really hoped he wasn’t expecting me to attempt to figure that one out myself.
“What other tent?”
“You only bought one tent?”
He pulled a Pixy stick out from his back pocket and tilted his head back, shaking some of the sugary powder into his mouth. “Tent has two rooms. There’s a divider. You and your son can sleep on one side. I’ll sleep on the other.”
I didn’t really have a right to complain, seeing as he was doing all the work and paid for all of the supplies. So I didn’t, for a change.
We munched on what would normally be a month’s supply of carbs for me and sat around the campfire. Chance peeled a stick with a pocketknife and popped a marshmallow on the end before offering it to me. He really was good at this stuff.
“So, I’ll be sharing a tent with you tonight, we adopted a pet together, and I don’t even know what you do for a living?”
“I guess you can say I’m retired.”
“Retired?” At what? Twenty-six, twenty-seven?”
“Twenty-eight,” he corrected.
“Oh. Well that makes it better.” It was dark, even with the light of the fire. I lifted my roasted marshmallow to check it. The color was browned nicely on one side, the other side was still white. “So what did you retire from?”
“Soccer.”
“You played professionally?”
“In Australia. Yes. Well, not for long.”
“What happened?”
“Torn ACL.”
“It couldn’t be repaired?”
“I had a few surgeries. But it tore again.”
“I’m sorry. How long did you get to play for?”
“One game.”
“One game? You mean you tore it in your first professional game?”
“I did. First and last professional game, both on the same day.”
“How long ago was that?”
“I stayed on the roster for my three-year contract. Had a few surgeries…never really could make it back to the level I needed to be at. Retired at twenty-four.”
“Wow. That sucks.”
He smiled.
“But what do you do now?”
“I still get royalties, so I don’t have to work a nine to five or anything. But I spend my days making junk art.”
“Junk art?”
“Some people call it recycled art.”
“I went to an exhibit like that at the Guggenheim. I loved it. I’d love to see your work sometime.”
He nodded. Very noncommittal.
“Can I be nosey?”
“You mean more nosey?”
“You’re the one who told me to get to know you. Before you made me crash into poor Esmerelda Snowflake, that is.”
“You didn’t even crash into that thing. And his name is not Esmerelda Snowflake.”
My marshmallow was on fire. I blew on it, then slipped it off the stick and took a bite. It was almost liquefied. “Mmmmm.”
I noticed Chance was watching me intently. “You want a bite?”
He shook his head slowly.
“Why not? You’re the sugar addict.”
“I get more enjoyment out of watching you eat it than I would eating it myself.” He swallowed. The sight of his throat working made me warm, and it had nothing to do with the fire.
“Anyway. How can you be living off royalties if your contract was only three years?”
He looked away. “Posters and stuff.”
“Posters? You mean of you?”
“Haven’t we talked about me enough? Harry’s been quiet today, hasn’t he?”
“Not a chance, Cocky. You blew me off once, and I let you off the hook.”
Turned out, I wasn’t the only one that thought Chance Bateman was ridiculously hot. Even years after retiring from professional sports, legions of women in Australia were still keeping his poster and jersey sales alive enough for him to live off of. There was something very endearing about him being a little embarrassed of the whole thing.
After a few more hours of sitting around the campfire, we decided to call it a night. Chance set up my sleeping bag for me and then zipped the divider of our two-room tent down. He left me with the lantern, so I could change first.
My clothes smelled like campfire, so I stripped everything off. There was something exciting about standing naked with only a flimsy piece of nylon between us. I might have lingered an extra minute before I put my bra and panties back on. When I was all done, I unzipped the corner of the tent and handed the lantern to Chance.
He gave me a sly grin and zipped the divider back into place. My side of the tent went dark, but as I climbed into my sleeping bag, I realized I could now see everything on his side. It was a shadow, but a very detailed shadow.
He was facing me, standing very still. I wasn’t certain, but it felt like he was looking right at me. It was impossible to actually see me through the vinyl divider, but I sensed his eyes on me nonetheless. He reached down to the hem of his shirt and slowly lifted it over his head. The shadow of his body was broad at the shoulders but tapered to a narrow waist. Even though I couldn’t see the detail, I imagined what I knew was there. The ridges of his muscular abs, the hard plains of that carved V. My mouth was suddenly dry.
He stood there again for a long moment and then began to strip out of his pants. The sound from the slow unzip of his jeans made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. His thighs were thick and muscular; his boxer briefs hugged his legs like a second skin. I held my breath when his thumbs hooked into the top of his boxers, and he began to peel them off of his body. He bent to slip them off and then stood.
Holy mother of all cocky bastards. He was hung. The thing was dangling more than halfway to his knees. I took a sharp breath in, realized it was audible, and quickly slapped my hand over my mouth. I kept it there until he was completely dressed, afraid a moan might slip out.
When he was finally done, I watched him climb into his sleeping bag. He rolled onto his side and faced my direction. It made me wonder if he was looking at me. Then he flicked off the light.
“Night, Aubrey.”
AH-BREE
Perhaps I could have been imagining it, but his voice sounded as thick and needy as I felt.
“Night, Chance.”
I took a deep breath and shut my eyes, attempting to regain my wits. Then it dawned on me for the first time…had he just watched me give him the same show and returned the favor?
Where am I? That was the first thought that came to mind as I woke up. After a few seconds, everything registered. Sunlight attempted to permeate the tent. I lightly patted my bedside before my hand tapping on the ground turned frantic.
Where was the goat?
I jumped up out of my sleeping bag. “Chance!”
“Hmm,” he moaned groggily from behind the divider.
“The goat! He’s gone.” A rush of panic tore through me. “He’s gone!”
I zipped the divider down without a second thought.
“Relax. He’s here with me.”
“Baa.” The goat let out that single sound as if to confirm that I had overreacted. My pulse immediately slowed down as I held my hand over my pounding heart. “Oh, thank God.”
Chance sat up and ran his hands through his messy hair. Blinking when he looked up, he seemed to freeze. “Jesus Christ. Are you trying to kill me?”
I looked down at myself and crossed my arms over my chest. I’d run over so fast that I hadn’t thought about the fact that I’d only slept in my bra and panties. “Shit. Sorry. I was so panicked. I wasn’t thinking straight and didn’t put anything on.”
Utterly embarrassed, I returned to my side and spoke through the closed divider as I started to get dressed. “So, how did he end up over there with you?”
“You were out like a light. He started rustling aro
und, trying to break through to my side. The bugger wouldn’t calm down until I let him over here. Slept next to me the rest of the night. Worst fucking breath I’ve ever smelled in my life.”
I couldn’t help but crack up at that.
“You think that’s funny, eh, Princess?”
“I really do.” After throwing my last item of clothing on, I unzipped the barrier again.
Chance was standing before me half-naked only wearing his tight boxer briefs. He glared at me. “Privacy much? What if I’d just walked in on you like that a few seconds ago?”
He’d never looked so sexy, with his bed head and that almost angry look. My eyes unapologetically trailed down the length of his torso, down the thin line of hair leading into his underwear and stopped on his…massive erection.
Oh, God. Now, it made sense why he was suddenly modest.
Clearing my throat, I said, “You…you’re…”
“Hard.”
“Yes.”
“It’s called morning wood. I can’t be responsible for how I wake up…especially under these conditions.”
“Sleeping next to a goat. Did it turn you on?” I laughed.
“I was referring to your impromptu striptease a few seconds ago. And now, you barged over here again before I had a chance to calm the fuck down from it.”
“Oh.”
“I can only take so much.” Chance slipped his pants on.
His stare was burning into mine. He looked even sexier with his arousal straining through his jeans. As much as I’d felt awkward for putting him in this situation, I loved the idea of being the one responsible for his hard on. In fact, my ability to handle my attraction to him was dwindling pretty fast. With each second that passed, the muscles between my legs were tightening from just the way he was looking at me. These were times I was grateful to be a woman because at least my excitement could be hidden. Still, this wasn’t a good predicament. I needed to break the ice.
Clearing my throat, “What are the plans for today?”
He slipped a shirt on. “We need to eat.”
“So, we’ll get breakfast out?” I stupidly asked.
“Yes, breakfast. What else would I be eating out?”
Uh.
Cocky Bastard Page 4
