Impossible

by Laurel Curtis

  He slipped his feet into the stirrups, and immediately signaled to the horse with his heels to move forward. He moved around the arena effortlessly, the horse an extension of his own body, much like a bull probably was every time he got on one. His muscles flexed, and his body never formed a pose of which I wasn’t a fan.

  Watching him move, I realized that he was a born showman. No matter what he was doing, it seemed like a performance- one that men, women, and children alike would gladly pay to watch over and over again. He didn’t try to put on a show, it just happened. And it was freaking breathtaking.

  Trotting over to right in front of me, he stopped, dismounted, walked around the front of the horse, grabbed my hand, and pulled me around. He didn’t give me a chance to even get a word out before he grabbed my hips from behind and lifted me up into the saddle. He let his hands linger a little longer than was necessary, so I called him on it. “Uh, you can remove your hands now. I’m good.”

  “I know you’re good, honey. I just felt it.”

  I rolled my eyes and looked down at him, a laugh bubbling out of my throat. “Do those lines actually work on women in real life?”

  A full blown smile encapsulated his face as he murmured, “Sorry to tell you, Roni, but yes, they absolutely do.”

  I didn’t doubt it, though I wasn’t sure if it was really the lines or the more obvious panty dropper- him.

  “Go ahead, give him his head and a little bump with your heels. I’ll stay on the ground for a minute just to make sure you’re alright, and then I’ll get on and we’ll hit a couple’a trails.”

  “Do I at least get to know his name?” I asked.

  “Coleman Cade, the third.”

  My head tilted to the side at the same time that my eyes narrowed. “Is that a joke?”

  He shook his head at the same time that he confirmed, “Nope, Banty. Believe it or not, it’s the truth. We call him Three.”

  “What happens if CJ has a son and wants to carry on the family name?”

  “Then I guess my grandson’ll be named after a horse.”

  I pursed my lips, raised my brows, and rocked my head just slightly back and forth before answering, “Well, as long as it’s a reality you’re aware of and prepared for.”

  Evidently tired of talking, he gave Three a light smack on the ass and off I went.

  I rode around the arena a few times, settling into the seat of the saddle and getting comfortable with Three’s movements. Thank God, he had a smooth gait and didn’t make me feel like my boobs were going to rip right off of my chest- something I had feared as I was lacking a sports bra. As I went, Coleman gave me pointers and corrected anything I was doing wrong. Then he let me ride around a couple of times on my own, just watching.

  Obviously satisfied with my skills, Coleman whistled for me to follow him out the gate, as he was up on the other horse and ready to go.

  Bumping Three with my heels a little harder, I moved faster so that I could walk next to him as we headed down the alleyway between pastures. I could see real farmland in the distance, the golden wheat swaying in the wind.

  I had just started to relax when he muttered, “Okay, Roni. Now or never. Tell me about yourself.”

  Ugh. Those were the absolute last words I wanted to hear. Now I had to figure out a way to give him enough information to satiate his curiosity, but keep my secrets safely tucked inside my head.

  I guess it took me too long to answer, because he spoke again. There was no frustration in his voice, just acceptance. “Okay, I’ll go first.”

  Thank God.

  “You know my name. You know that most people call me Cade. Obviously, I have a great son that looks and acts more like me everyday, but what you probably don’t know is that I had him when I was seventeen. I was no saint- I’m still not- but it rocked my world when I got his mom pregnant. I didn’t know what to do with myself or what I was going to do with him, but when I held him in my arms for the first time, I knew it was meant to be. Another time, another woman, and CJ wouldn’t be the kid that he is. Unfortunately, his mom didn’t feel the same. As soon as he was out of her body and the hospital cleared her, she was gone. For the most part, we haven’t missed her. But that doesn’t mean we haven’t missed the idea of her.”

  I was expecting him to share, but I was thinking more along the lines of “My favorite color is blue”. Instead, he was baring his soul, and I could tell from his tone that it was unlikely he did it often.

  Looking up at him I whispered, “Why are you okay with telling me all of this?”

  Shaking his head slightly, he answered, “To be honest with you, I don’t know.”

  He paused for a few seconds, his eyes roaming over my face like a physical touch the whole time. “There’s just something about you. I considered watering it down a little bit, feeding you the sweet talk I usually use, but when I looked at your face it was impossible not to tell you the truth. Like maybe you’ve been fed enough shit in your life, and it was time someone gave you respect instead.”

  He wasn’t exactly right. I had had some shit in my life, that was for sure, but it wasn’t because of people lying to me. Regardless, I felt the heavy weight of warmth in my chest as a result of him trusting me that much.

  We had pulled our horses to a stop, and when I looked up at him, I was sure my eyes were wet. I couldn’t tell him all of my secrets. I didn’t know him well enough, and I’d spent too much time trying to forget them.

  Truthfully, the second factor was the most important. I could tell he was trustworthy somehow. Call it instinct or some freakish sixth sense. But if I told him, that would mean I would remember it, relive it...suffer it. And I just couldn’t go there. I wasn’t ready.

  Whispering softly, I said, “I’m not sure I can give you the respect you deserve back.”

  He considered what I said for a minute before gentling his face and reaching out to put his palm to my cheek. “That’s okay, Roni. I have a feeling you’ll give it to me eventually, and I’ve got time.”

  He stroked his thumb under my eye, no doubt noting the ever present purple circles, and then pulled his hand away. “Come on, let’s ride, Banty baby.”

  He clicked and bumped his heels, and I followed his lead. The rest of the ride was pretty quiet, both of us lost in our heads, but I found it to be completely enjoyable. Just being in his company was easy, and the trails were beautiful. Everything was lush and green, thriving under the same summer conditions that had me melting out of my skin. Flowers were bright and vibrant all over the place, and the golden wheat danced in the background as we rode around the edges of the Cade fields.

  After about an hour of virtual silence, sweating, and riding, I was glad to see the barn come into view. Walking the horses back into the arena, we stopped at the fence, jumped down off of our respective horses, and tied them up (I copied Coleman since I had no idea what I was doing on my own.).

  It was so freaking hot that I could feel the sweat trickling down between my breasts and settling around my bra strap. As I was thinking this, apparently Coleman had the same thought. I watched intently as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and threw it to the side, revealing the tattooed set of bull horns on his upper back spanning his shoulder blades. The way it was done made it look like the horns pierced straight through his skin. It was both freaky, in a ‘that could really freaking happen’ way, and cool as hell.

  When he turned toward me again, I grumbled my petulance. “That is so un-freaking-fair. I want to take my shirt off, but being a woman makes that more complicated.”

  A smile broke out across his face as he gestured graciously with his hand, his every movement flexing his perfect eight pack of abs. “By all means, take yours off. I don’t mind at all.”

  I just bet he didn’t.

  Maybe I was suffering from heat stroke, maybe I was losing my mind, or maybe I was just tired of caring at all. Whatever the case, I took us both by surprise by reaching down for the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head, l
eaving myself exposed except for the coverage of my plain black bra.

  “Holy shit.”

  The look on his face was more adolescent boy than well-experienced man, and I knew that wasn’t the true story. “Give me a break. You’re gonna try to act like you haven’t seen hundreds of sets of these? Even your mother knows you have.”

  He pretended to be offended as he said, “Hey, I’ll have you know that I haven’t seen...okay, yeah. Probably hundreds.” Giving me- and my vulnerable girls- a look that could take away your virginity, he finished, “But baby, they never get old.”

  Rolling my eyes, I said, “I didn’t take off my shirt for you, I did it for my girls. They’re freaking dying out here. It’s a million degrees.”

  His eyes stayed locked directly on my chest, unabashed, while he muttered, “Hot summer days are my new favorite thing.”

  A smile lit his face, a direct result of our teasing banter (and likely his unobstructed view), but promptly slipped off when he processed what I had said about Nan. “Wait. Did you say...?” Within a span of just a few seconds, I watched as he fought an internal battle with himself, finally making a decision. “ No. Don’t tell me. I absolutely don’t want to know the reason that you’ve had a discussion about this with my mother!”

  “Let’s just say your anti-innocence hasn’t fully escaped her notice.”

  His eyebrows raised in question, he waited for me to respond, but there was an underlying pain on his face, like he was truly afraid of the answer.

  “We saw Debbie last night. A discussion was had. End of story.”

  Shaking his head slightly, he focused on the part of this conversation that he was comfortable with. “Two nights in a row of you bein’ shoved down Debbie’s throat? I bet she loved that.”

  “I’ve had people look at me with kinder faces.”

  That caught his attention, so he turned to me and gave me his complete focus as he asked, “She say anything to you?”

  His face was hard, not toward me, but as though he would be exceptionally upset if she had given me real problems.

  I shook my head and waved him off with my hand. “No, she just looked at me. Really, it wasn’t a big deal at all.”

  He grinned again, the tension fully sliding out of his body, and murmured, “You scared her two nights ago. Funny.”

  Tipping my head slightly to the side, I questioned, “How is that funny?”

  “I’ve been trying to get Debbie off of my case for a while now, but one statement from you, and she’s resigned herself to just givin’ looks. I owe you one, Banty baby.”

  I rolled my eyes at the same time that I fake-grumbled, “Fine. I’ll give you this one, but don’t expect me to become your personal ‘Get Rid of Skanks I’ve Slept With That I’m Ready To Scrape Off’ service.”

  With a shrug of one shoulder, he immediately responded, “Okay.”

  With skepticism tainting my face, I asked, “Okay?”

  Collecting his features into a serious arrangement, he muttered breezily, “Yeah, if you’re gonna do it, we’ll have to come up with a better name for it. ‘Get Rid of Skanks I’ve Slept With That I’m Ready To Scrape Off’ is way too long.”

  Wait. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Maybe we’ll just call you ‘The Exterminator’. Getting rid of unwanted pests and all.”

  My signature scowl returned, and I retorted, “These ‘pests’ were invited.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s why you’re there. Invitation rescinded.” He reached out and grabbed my shirt, yanking it right out of my hands on the word “rescinded”.

  I held out my hand, silently demanding my shirt back. “You sound an awful lot like an asshole right now.”

  “Yeah. But you like it, right?”

  Shitdizzle. I did. I liked it. So help me, but he was one of those endearing assholes. The ones you loved to hate and hated to love, all at the same time.

  When I didn’t say anything negative in response to his question, his gaze turned serious, heated even. Being that I was currently topless, I noticed it even more.

  As a shiver ran down my spine, he gathered my shirt in his hands, working it so that he had the neck hole opened, and then held it out to indicate he wanted to put it on me.

  Ducking my head, I inclined in his direction and gave into his whim of dressing me, slowly putting my arms back through the sleeves when my head cleared the crew neck collar.

  He stayed in my space, only a few inches away, and whispered softly, “If I didn’t put that on you, this would have gone further than you’re ready for.”

  “What would have gone-”

  Before I could finish my question, he leaned forward and touched his lips to mine. The moment his soft lips met mine, I felt the electricity run through my entire body. It seemed appropriate since this was the equivalent of shocking me back to life after years of no sexual activity whatsoever, but it was still a surprise.

  My eyes fell closed, and the world around me faded completely away. The way he moved his lips over mine, with so much reverence that I thought I might collapse, made me tingle and sway gently. I was completely in the fog he created when his tongue moved smoothly from his mouth to mine, the tip just barely caressing the tip of mine before retreating. My hands moved automatically to the tan, smooth skin of his back, and my fingertips flexed at the feeling of emptiness that settled over me when his tongue left.

  Giving me one last touch of his lips, he moved his hands from my hips to my jaw as he pulled back. “Sweet Christ, Roni,” he whispered.

  Goosebumps immediately broke out all over my skin. I didn’t even know that was possible when you were sweating your ass off, but somehow it happened.

  Remarkably, after years without even one kiss, and the years before that filled with only one man, it still fell so natural- so right- kissing Coleman.

  Holy scariness, Batman. It was time to get out of there.

  “I need to go.”

  He chuckled, actually chuckled, and murmured, “Yeah, I bet you do.”

  I narrowed my eyes and pinched his arm. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Banty. Only thing you do more than fight, is run. I’ve been waitin’ for it all day, and if you felt that kiss even a quarter of how much I felt it, I’m surprised you’re not already gone.”

  Ugh. Did he think he knew everything about me already? A fire burned from my eyes, as I got right in his face, my voice low and grumbly. “What makes you think you know me at all, Coleman?”

  Smiling huge, the jerk, he bit his lip and then said, “I don’t know you really well yet-”

  There was a gleam in his eye that made me narrow mine. “-but I’d like to know more. Though, it would seem that I knew enough to execute the sleuth maneuver I just did.”

  Breathing fire, I got on my toes, as if that would make me more menacing when I was a good foot shorter than him, if not more. “What maneuver, asshole?”

  His face beaming with pride, he tucked my hair behind my ear and stated, “You’re cute, Roni. You know that?”

  Working my jaw, I didn’t dignify his question with an answer, but instead waited for him to get on with his explanation.

  After several seconds he smiled even bigger, gave in, and explained, “You love a good fight, Banty. I just tapped into that instinct by rufflin’ your feathers a little bit, and you ran with it instead’a runnin’ out on me. Gave me a couple more minutes to look at that pretty face of yours, even if it is twisted up into a serious scowl.”

  Son of a bitch. He had already learned how to play me. Even though it was a little late in the game, and was surely the exact action he was expecting, I turned and started to walk away without saying anything.

  As I walked I could hear his laughter in the background before he shouted out to me, “By the way! I can also tell you aren’t really that mad because you called me Coleman. If I’d really pissed you off, Cade would have rolled off your tongue.”

  Throwing my middle finger over my sho
ulder, I kept right on walking, my eyes on the ground and my mind blank.

  That was normal for me because I was good at blanking my mind and forcing memories to the East Bumblefuck section of my brain. But that wasn’t the only thing that was habitual, and my fingers did the talking. And for once, they went somewhere other than my scar. My lips.

  I could still taste the mixture of sweet tea and sexiness from his tongue.

  Someone might tell you that sexiness isn’t a flavor, but that person definitely hasn’t tasted Coleman Cade.

  Shit. Dizzle.

  Chapter 6

  Psycho-Stalker

  Jerking awake like always, my heart racing and my breathing ragged, I worked through the strange combination of intense unease and heightened arousal I was experiencing.

  Last night I had gone to the grocery store and gotten food so that I could sequester myself in my hotel room until I could get out of town. I ate and watched TV, anything to keep my brain occupied, until I fell asleep. Now, it was time to face the music. I had tried to give interacting with people a try, and it had gone too far. Now I had to get out of here.

  I had had my normal nightmare, but this time I had followed it up with a sex dream about Coleman. That was an unbelievably strange, twisted, freakish mixture, and it had my stomach churning like none other.

  What kind of games was my subconscious playing on me, making me relive losing Josh and then throwing some mind blowing sex with a different man on top of it? Sex that had not been had. Sex that would not be had.

  I wiped the sweat off of my forehead, and in doing so, reminded myself that I still had stitches I was going to have to get taken out. Counting off the days on my fingers, I concluded that the nurse I scorned had told me to get them removed in a week and it had only been three days. Four if you counted the day I left the hospital and today. I still had time.

  Throwing the covers back, I jumped out of bed and headed for the shower. I had a few things on my checklist today: get up and showered, get my research done, and get the hell away from Coleman Cade and his sex filled mouth. I would eat and really get ready for my chase once I was a safe distance away.