by Claire Adams
“Y’all are gonna be pretty busy to hear him tell it,” Daddy said.
I nodded. “Yeah, all three of us are probably going to be living in the barn for the first couple weeks.” I laughed, remembering Lacey joking about bringing a sleeping bag and just going to bed in the middle of alleyway instead of driving home at the end of each night. Even I’d taken to spending most nights at Pete’s. I still went home to my little house one or two nights a week, but I was starting to see the point in that less and less. Most of my clothes and other things were on the ranch already, anyway. I didn’t know why I was resisting just moving in all the way.
The phone rang and Daddy damned near launched out of his chair to go get it. He usually couldn’t be bothered, but I figured maybe he was waiting on somebody today. He may have gotten more talkative around Pete and the old timers, but he still wasn’t much for chatting on the phone more than he had to. He went into the kitchen, speaking low for a few seconds before hanging up. He walked back out to the living room.
“Who was on the phone?” I asked. “Big Tom?”
He shook his head once. “It was Pete. He asked us to run out to the ranch to give him a hand with something.”
I furrowed my eyebrows. “He said he’d be busy all afternoon, but was planning to join us over here later for dinner.”
“I guess he changed his mind.” He walked off without another word of explanation.
I sat for a second on the couch, still looking after him, confused, before I got up myself and followed him out to his truck. I climbed into the passenger seat.
“Did he say what he needed?”
“Something to do with the barn,” Daddy replied as he got the truck started.
I rolled down the window as soon as we got going, closing my eyes, just enjoying that cool breeze blowing my hair back from my forehead and cheeks.
We pulled up to the barn a few minutes later. Pete’s truck was in the driveway, and the barn door was open just a crack. Besides that, no one was around.
“What the hell is he doing?” I muttered.
“Let’s go on up to the barn,” Daddy said.
We climbed out of the truck and walked over to the barn. He slid open the alleyway door, and I stepped inside. I froze just inside the doorway, my mouth dropping open and eyes trying to look everywhere at once to take in everything.
The other alleyway door at the rear of the barn was closed, sealing out the sunshine. Behind me, Daddy slid the door I’d just come through shut, not coming in himself. There were twinkling electric lights strung from banister to banister and all along the alleyway. Red rose petals were strewn all over the roughened concrete floors. Someone had put wreaths of colorful wildflowers around the horses’ necks and decorated their shining manes with more flowers. They were so beautiful. At the other end of the barn, Pete was standing with a big smile on his face, his hands folded in front of him, clearly waiting for me. He was dressed in a brand new dark blue suit, tie, and shiny brown dress shoes, his dark hair cut and swept back off his forehead.
“Pete?” I said, but I couldn’t think of a damned thing to say besides his name.
He walked towards me, his grin getting a little wider with every step. He stopped a foot short of me, and I could smell the sweet aroma of his cologne. I was too stunned to speak. I could only look at him. He never dressed like this, never wore cologne, not even when we went out at night.
“Emma,” he started. “My life hasn’t been the same since you started on the ranch. I never knew how happy I could be before you entered my life.” He paused, swallowing hard and shifting his hands, which were still folded together in front of him.
“I remember my daddy telling me about the moment he knew he loved my mama. They hadn’t been dating long, but he made her smile and something inside him just melted, and he knew. That’s how I’ve felt around you since the morning we went to the Texan the first time.”
I smiled, blinking to hold back tears at how steadily he was looking at me with his gorgeous blue eyes.
“I’m sure you know how much I love you,” he continued, swallowing again. “And, I can’t imagine my life or the farm without you. I don’t ever want to be without you again.”
He moved his hands now, and I could see he was holding a small silver whistle. He brought it to his mouth and blew into it. I didn’t hear anything at all, but Riley came running around the corner from the direction of the tack and feed room. I’d never seen that dog run before. I smiled as Pete dropped to one knee on the alleyway floor and Riley ran right to him.
“What have you got there, boy?” Pete asked.
Riley had a big red ribbon tied around his neck, the full bow just below the back of his head.
“Did you do all this?” I said, smiling just a little.
Pete turned the ribbon on Riley’s neck until I could see a black velvet ring box hanging from it. He untied the ribbon and gave the dog a good scratch behind the ear.
“Good boy, Riley,” he said. The dog laid down right where he was, his job well done, and curled up, nose to tail.
Pete looked up at me, opening the ring box and turning it so I could see the tiny ring inside of it — a yellow gold band with a sparkling diamond right in the middle that flashed in the twinkling lights.
I brought my hands to my mouth, drawing in a breath that I couldn’t let out again right away.
“Emma Flowers, will you do me the great honor of marrying me? I can’t think of another person on this Earth that I’d rather spend my life with.” He gazed up at me, so much love brimming in his wide blue eyes that I could only stare at him for a few moments, my heart ready to burst from my chest with how much I cared for him.
I nodded, tears spilling from my eyes as I dragged in a stuttering breath. “Yes,” I whispered, but behind my hands. I dropped them and, still nodding, answered a second time. “Yes!”
He grinned and rose to take me into his arms. I kissed him deeply, the excitement spinning between us stealing our breath away too quickly. We broke apart, gasping and giggling. He put the ring on my finger, and I couldn’t take my eyes away from how lovely it was and how perfectly if fit.
“I love you so much, Emma,” he whispered.
“I love you, too,” I whispered back.
He took me in his arms again, and this time we kissed for a long time, not pulling away until Daddy knocked on the door behind us to find out how it went. Smiling, we opened the door to Daddy – and to the rest of our lives.
Click here to continue to my next book.
Get Each of My Newly Released Books for 99 Cents By Clicking Here
Click here to get my book Swipe for free
BAD BOY COWBOY
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
Chapter One
Trethan
I leaned back against the bar while I waited for the bartender to pour Brent and me a couple of beers. It seemed like half the town was packed into the Roasted Bison that night, but that made sense. It was Friday night in a small town. What else were people going to do? Plus, we were getting into the good, warm days of summer, and everyone was starting to feel a little frisky.
I watched a couple busty blondes spin out on the dance floor, their feet tapping enthusiastically to the live country band playing in one corner. Mickey and the guys had been playing this place every Friday night since God knew when, but every week, there seemed to be a new selection of girls out dancing to their music.
I never really understood what it was about White Bluff that seemed to attract so many tourists, but maybe that was just because I’d grown up around there. Maybe they were seasonal workers.
I trailed my eyes down the hotter girl’s form, t
aking in her narrow waist and round behind. Yeah, I’d be pretty lucky if she was a seasonal worker, I thought. I wasn’t normally the type of guy to sleep with the same girl over and over again, but it was always nice to have a backup plan in case there was nothing happening at the bars.
“Oh, fuck yeah, buddy,” Brent said, coming back to me at the bar after having stepped outside to have a smoke. He eyed the girls as well, shaking his head. “How the fuck did we get so lucky in this bum-fuck little town?”
I snorted and glanced over at him. “We haven’t gotten lucky yet,” I pointed out.
He gave me a look as though he thought I was a moron. “What, you don’t think you have what it takes?” he taunted. “Maybe you need to try something different this time.”
I shrugged, not quite sure what I needed to try. “I think I’ve tried every play in the book at this point.”
“Maybe,” he said. Then, he got a wicked look in his eye. “But you haven’t tried using the mechanical bull to pull girls before.”
“Sure, I have,” I said. “Remember a few years ago on the Fourth of July? We were all in here getting smashed, and someone — I think it was Jerry — challenged everyone to some rounds to decide who was going to have to pay the tab?” I smirked. “But of course, you don’t remember that night because you had to pay the tab, and after that, when you saw how much it was, you drank yourself under the table trying to forget about it.”
Brent rolled his eyes, a sour look on his face at having been reminded of that night, which had been considerably less fun for him than it had been for the rest of us. “Getting on the bull to decide who has to pay the tab isn’t what I said. I said, you haven’t tried getting on the bull as a way to pick up chicks.”
“I’m getting there, I’m getting there,” I said, holding up both hands in a placating gesture. “You don’t remember this part because you were three sheets to the wind at the time, but I scored that night.” I grinned at his shocked face. “Come on, you have to remember. I know I told you about it. There was that hot brunette, can’t remember her name. Maybe Sharon? She came up to me in the last round of the night and was like, ‘Yeah, I saw you on the bull, and you were so sexy, so in control, and I bet you could control a woman the same way, couldn’t you?’ And I was like, well, yeah, honey, of course I could.” I winked.
Brent shook his head. “So why exactly haven’t you used that since?” he asked. “I mean, hell, if I was that smooth when it came to riding the bull-”
“Then you would remember that night,” I couldn’t resist interjecting.
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Well, I dare you to get on there again tonight. But tonight, I dare you to crank it up to the highest setting!”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” I said, even though I hated to back down from a challenge. Thing was, I’d never even ridden a real bull before, and I had a feeling the mechanical one on its highest setting was a lot worse, and it could do a lot of damage if I fell wrong. The last thing I needed was to injure myself the night before I was due to work at the Lazy J Ranch.
At the same time, something in Brent’s words sparked a fire inside me and made me want to prove I could ride it. The longer he stared at me, waiting for me to relent, the more determined I became.
He started laughing. “You’re really going to do it, aren’t you?” he asked gleefully.
“Let me get another couple drinks in me, and we’ll see,” I told him, even though I’d already made up my mind. And sure, having another couple of drinks before hopping on the thing was basically signing my death warrant, but I didn’t want to get on it sober. The alcohol would preemptively dull the pain when I went flying off, right?
I couldn’t help thinking what my father would have said about the idea. He would have taunted me for even considering getting on the thing. I could practically hear him now: “You lazy son of a bitch, instead of going out and picking up a girl the honest way, you think you can ride your way to glory? You’re just a good-for-nothing kid with a bad attitude and a chip on his shoulder the size of Montana. You’re never going to survive that, and then everyone in this whole godforsaken town is going to know what a worthless piece of shit you are!”
“You getting cold feet?” Brent taunted, and god, for a minute there, it was like the angel and the devil on my shoulders — but I didn’t know which was which.
I laughed and tried to play off the feeling. “Nah, man,” I said. “Come on, let’s talk to these chicks some before I get on the bull.”
“Sure thing,” he agreed, draining his drink and waiting for another before leading me over. “You ladies in from out of town?” he asked them.
Of course, they were. Otherwise, we would know them. We would have grown up with them.
The girls giggled to one another and nodded. “Yeah, we’re from New York,” the girl in the pink shirt said. She was hot as hell, and she eyed me with a smile on her face. “So, you’re, like, real cowboys or something?”
“Aw, he is,” Brent said, jerking his thumb at me. “Actually, Trethan here was just bragging how he’s going to set a record time on the mechanical bull tonight. He rides it at the highest setting, too. And, I bet you can guess what a wild ride he is in the sheets, with all that, eh?” He winked at the two women.
They both blushed, but they were giggling. “Well, go on then,” the hot chick said, checking me out. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Oh, come on now,” I said, shaking my head and holding up my half-finished beer. “Let a man quench his thirst first before you start challenging him to get on the bull.”
“Ain’t like it’s a challenge for you,” Brent reminded me, grinning.
That bastard.
“I’m going home with the cute one,” he told me in an undertone as the girls started singing and dancing along to the song the band was playing. “The one in the pink top. She looks good enough to eat.”
I could only gape at him for a moment. “Come on, now,” I said. “You know it’s my turn to go home with the hotter one.”
“She’s not the hotter one,” Brent said, and okay, I could kind of see where he was coming from. The other girl did have better legs and better curves, but the one in the pink top, I just had to go home with her. I felt drawn to her, with that strange, mysterious attraction that only hits once in a while. There was no way I was going to let Brent go home with her.
But I had a plan, which was a good thing because knowing him, he probably had one, too.
“Here’s a little twist,” I said to the girls when they finally paused in their dancing to look expectantly over at us. “Brent and I were just talking about the bull, and we were thinking about starting a little friendly competition. How does that sound?”
Beside me, I could hear him groan. When I shot him a grin, he practically glared daggers at me, but I knew the girls must have thought he was just putting it on for effect.
“Maybe we should try it, too,” Pink Shirt said, grinning over at her friend. “I mean, we won’t go on the highest setting or anything like that. We’re not cowboys like you.” She giggled. Then, in a flash, she reached out and snatched my hat straight off my head and ran toward the other end of the bar, where the mechanical bull was waiting.
She hopped on, and the bull started moving. I had to admit, she did a pretty good job riding. And, she looked hot, gyrating her hips in an attempt to keep her balance and grinning like this was the best thing she’d ever done.
Maybe it was. I couldn’t know.
Her friend chickened out, but it was enough to make Brent go next, before me. I could barely peel my eyes away from Pink Shirt, who sidled close to me and leaned against my arm. She still wore my hat, cocked down at a rakish angle over her eyes.
The crowd cheered Brent on, and he got a decent time of six seconds, which was way longer than he’d gotten the last time we’d tried riding this thing. I started to feel nervous for the first time, but I couldn’t let that show.
I shook of
f my worries, snagged my hat back, and stepped forward. It was most likely going to get ugly, but I didn’t have much to lose. Nothing other than my dignity and for the chance of taking home the pretty girl in the pink top? I could live without it for a little while.
“You sure about this kid?” Mickey, the barkeep, asked dubiously as I hopped up on the bull.
“Oh yeah,” I told him. “And make sure you’ve got her cranked up high. I want her to put up a good fight tonight, just like a real bull.”
Mickey raised an eyebrow at me, but then he shrugged and adjusted the knobs. I sent one last grin toward the girl I was going home with that night — because I was for sure going home with her — and then prepared for the battle.
There was a rhythm to riding the bull. That was the trick. You just had to find that rhythm and you were golden.
And that night, I found the rhythm. The crowd cheered me on within moments. I sat firmly on the leather saddle. There was no way I was getting bucked off anytime soon. Hell, I might even try going one-handed, like all the pros did.
In fact, I didn’t know why I had never tried to be a professional bull-rider. I could make good money doing that kind of thing, and I’d get to travel outside of White Bluff, going all around Montana or, if I was lucky, all around the country. Rodeos were becoming popular again, and maybe that was where I could find my ticket out of here.
Except that I did know why I’d never gone pro. I could hear my dad’s voice in the back of my head again: “You stupid boy, always such a fucking dreamer. Can’t you just focus on the real world for a minute? You know as well as I do that you’re just going to be another good-for-nothing rat with a slut for a wife and an addiction to drugs.”
I got so caught up in my thoughts that I forgot what I was doing. For a second, I swear the smoke in the bar blended with the smoke in that living room in my memory, and I thought the old man might come after me.
The lapse in concentration was enough to get me thrown, and I landed hard on the mats, the air knocked out of my lungs as the bull continued to careen in circles above me. Slowly, the sounds of the bar came drifting back in through the mist in my mind.
