by Vivian Wood
“Sounds like the opposite of you,” he said, chuckling.
“Yeah. It’s cool, except when it’s annoying.”
“I get that. Well… actually, my brothers and I barely speak to our father. I’m not as mad at him as Sawyer or Walker, but…” He shrugged. “Brotherhood.”
“Ah,” she said. “I never really had anyone other than my mom. I guess that’s why I find Shelby River so interesting.”
“Shelby?” he said. “I guess she’s interesting. I’ve never really thought about it.”
“She totally is. And those outfits she wears… you know, short skirts and crop tops?” she said, then bit her lip. “Well, you have to have a lot of self-confidence to pull that off.”
Did that mean that Rose lacked-self confidence? Damn, but Colt thought Rose was a hundred times hotter than Shelby. A thousand.
He frowned at his beer. Two drinks almost gone, and here he was already fucking rhapsodizing about Rose’s hotness.
“She looks all right,” he managed. “I prefer someone that shows a little less skin, but that’s just me.”
Rose looked at him as if he’d just given her glowing praise. “Really?”
“Really.” What he meant was, whatever she wore looked amazing. He just needed not to say it, because he was trying not scare her off.
“How about I get this round?” she asked. “Since the bartender seems to have lost interest in you and all.”
He nodded. “Yeah, just… Don’t listen to anything she says about me, all right?”
“Hah!” Rose said, scooting out of the booth. “You wish.”
He tried not to scowl at her while she was at the bar getting drinks. To Missy’s credit, she filled two glasses and sat them down without much conversation.
Rose returned, pushing his drink over to him as she sat down.
“Thank you,” he said. “Are you serious about this getting drunk thing?”
She sat down with a shrug. “Maybe. I don’t know. I haven’t been drunk in…” She paused. “A while.”
“Well… I should be taking advantage, hmm? What questions do I really want to know the answers to?” he asked, pretending to ponder.
She took a gulp of her beer.
“I haven’t had a boyfriend for a year and a half. Haven’t had sex in a while, either.”
He was taking a drink just as she said it. He spat it out onto the table, making her laugh.
“What?” he muttered. “I wasn’t expecting you to say that.” Understatement. That had been the last thing he’d expected to come out of her pretty mouth.
He looked at her. Her laugh had come so easily, too easily, and she was leaning on an elbow...
“You’re tipsy,” he sighed.
“Yep,” she said, almost proud. “Now it’s your turn.”
“My turn to get drunk?”
“No, your turn to divulge your dating secrets.”
He frowned. “I don’t think you’re supposed to demand them.”
“Well, I am.”
He drummed his fingertips on the table, stalling.
“I don’t really have a dating history. About a year ago, I went out half a dozen times with Sarah Manning, this girl who was a cheerleader when we were in high school. It didn’t pan out.”
“No?”
“No. She made it perfectly clear that she was ready to go ring shopping… I called it quits before anything could really happen.”
“Ah. You’re not the type to buy a girl a ring?”
“I’m not rushing toward it, if that’s what you mean.”
She pulled a face. “Shelby says that you’re kind of a dog.”
Oh, she was definitely tipsy. And he was going to be having a little talk with Shelby about her chats with the new vet.
“Is that right?” he said, leaning back in the booth with a grin.
“Yeah. She actually said you’re a good guy, though.”
Okay, so Shelby wasn’t all bad...
“Did she, now? And how, exactly, did the subject of how dateable I am come up?”
Rose blushed. Her blush brought his attention to her mouth, as she bit her lower lip. He envisioned kissing her, biting that lower lip, evoking passionate sighs from her…
“—me home?” she asked.
“What?” he said, shaking his head to clear the fantasy.
“I’ve had a bit too much to drink. Do you want to walk me home?”
She looked nervous, as if he was going to say no.
“Oh. Sure,” he said, rising from the table as she did.
He didn’t think for one second that she actually needed help home, she hadn’t had that much. He walked her outside; he could see her house from where he stood.
He walked with her across the street in silence. She shuffled her feet once she got to her doorway, clearing her throat.
“Umm, so…” she said, looking down at the ground.
She wants me to make a move, he realized.
Not one to dawdle with these matters, he stepped closer, cupping her jaw in his hand, and pressed his lips to hers. She was soft and sweet, tasting like cinnamon.
In a second he was hard for her, aching to taste more. Wanting to hear her moan, just like he’d imagined she would.
The second that he moved closer, to box her in against her own door, she pushed him away. He took a step back, confused.
“I… I’m sorry,” she said, looking away.
“I don’t understand,” he said, scanning her face, trying to get a read on the situation. “Did I do something?”
“I’m… I’m not normal. It’s my fault,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
With that she turned and unlocked her door, hands shaking as she worked. Once she got it open, she vanished inside, without so much as looking back at him.
Leaving him to walk to his truck alone, not to mention baffled. What exactly had just happened?
And what did she mean when she said she wasn’t normal?
He climbed in his truck and threw it into gear, peeling off into the night.
15
It had been a few days since Rose had turned down Colt again. He hadn’t come back, not that she’d expected him to.
Honestly, she expected him to stop doing her renovations too, judge-ordered or no.
She lay on her couch after a long morning of cleaning and painting, giving Alexis some pitbull-style love. That meant that Alexis was stretched out on the floor beneath her, showing Rose her tummy.
She scratched Alexis’s belly absentmindedly. Realistically, she’d had a huge week. She’d confronted her rapist, albeit not exactly a planned kind of confrontation.
And she’d kissed Colt. Alright, it was more like he’d kissed her, but still. That was a really big deal, a step in the right direction.
Jared was definitely wrong when he said she would never be with anyone else. She knew that. It was just a matter of time.
That frustrated her, though. Time was always the enemy, it seemed.
She looked up at the door as someone knocked. Shelby probably, making sure she was coming out to see their horse.
She jumped up from the couch, startling Alexis, and pulled the door open.
Her face must have been comically surprised when she saw Colt, because his lips twitched. He looked handsome, in his jeans and a white button up.
“You’re here,” she said.
He looked around. “Should I be somewhere else?”
“No, it’s just… I don’t know. I figured you were tired of me,” she said, shrugging.
“Not yet,” he said. “Call it masochism.”
“Umm… do you want to come in?” she asked, bold suddenly.
“Uhh, not exactly. I came to see if you wanted to start over. Be friends.”
“Friends?” she said, as if the word were in an alien tongue.
“Yeah. Like real friends. People who do things for reasons other than… other than sex, I guess.”
“Oh,” she said, furrowi
ng her brow. “O-kay…”
“I thought maybe if you’re not busy, we could go horseback riding,” he said, as if what he was saying was totally normal.
What could she do but act the same way?
“Really? I haven’t been in ages.”
“Well, it just so happens that I have a ranch, and that ranch has horses.”
“Cool,” she said. “I need to change clothes.”
“I’ll wait in my truck. It would probably be best if you followed me out to the ranch.”
He was really serious about this being friends thing, apparently.
“Okay. I’ll be quick,” she promised.
“Okay.”
He headed back to his truck, and she closed the door. For a long moment, she rested her head against the door, soaking the conversation in.
He wanted to be real friends, whatever that meant.
She went to her bedroom and changed into a gray long sleeve shirt and jeans, plus her cowboy boots. It felt strange, because she hadn’t put on her boots in ages.
She grabbed her purse and headed out. She waved to Colt in his truck, and he waved back. Sliding into the driver’s seat, she started the engine and pulled out after Colt’s truck.
The ride to Colt’s ranch was unmemorable. She was caught up in her own thoughts until the moment when she drove under a wooden sign post that declared Roman Ranch.
She eyed the proud ranch as she pulled into the drive, parking behind Colt’s truck. There was a large clapboard house and a big oak tree on one side, and a white wooden structure on the right.
When she got out of her car, she was surprised to find a number of Catahoula curs waiting for her. She crouched and put her hands out, making her intentions plain enough. Several of them sniffed and licked her.
She noticed that one of the bitches was extremely pregnant, looking like she would drop the puppies any day. Rose took special care to walk over and introduce herself to the overburdened cur.
“Hi,” she said. “You look uncomfortable! Don’t worry, it’s almost over.”
Colt came over. “That’s Missy.”
She looked at the cur, who sighed and put her head on her front paws. “Okay, Missy. I’ll let you get back to napping.”
A thump of her tail let Rose know that the dog was pleased. She turned to the other dogs, making sure everybody got some affection.
“Making friends with dogs everywhere I go is part of the job,” she said.
“I would apologize for the curs, but I figure they’re more your speed than most people,” Colt said.
She looked up. “Dogs don’t judge.”
That brought a smile to his lips.
“No, I guess not.” He waited another minute while she finished petting them. When she stood, he pointed to the barn. “That’s our destination.”
“It looks new,” she said, brushing back a strand of her hair.
“We rebuilt it about a year ago. Sawyer and Remy moved out of the bunkhouse to their house downtown, right around the time we were doing a bunch of stuff to the ranch. Seemed like we might as well throw a new barn into the mix, too.”
“The bunkhouse is where you live?” she asked, crinkling her nose.
They reached the barn, but Colt stopped to point out the bunkhouse.
“Over there. It’s been remodeled, so it’s really nice inside,” he said.
“Ah,” she said.
They went into the barn, which had a row of stables to the left. Most of the row was full, a testament to how many horses they kept on hand.
“Pick your poison,” he said. “I would choose one of the three on this end.”
She looked at them, a chestnut and two grays. She randomly pointed at the gray closest to her. “Uhhh… that one.”
His lips curled up. “Good choice.”
He rolled up his sleeves and saddled both of the horses. They led them outside to the pasture, which was beautiful and green. In no time flat she was standing in front of her horse, staring at the saddle.
“Need help?” he asked.
She but her lip, unsure of herself, then nodded.
“It’s been a while since I’ve ridden,” she said.
“I figured as much,” he said.
He came around behind her. She put her hands on the saddle, her foot in the stirrup. She felt the brush of his bare skin against fabric, those forearms touching her sides. She could feel his breath on her neck, teasing her.
Where is the major freak out that’s supposed to happen about now? she wondered. Not forthcoming, it seemed.
“Ready?” he asked. “One, two, three…”
On three he propelled her skyward, and faint muscle memory made her fling her leg over with an, “Ooop”.
He mounted his own horse in one fluid motion, which for some reason reminded her of exactly how many muscles were in his body.
He busied himself adjusting everything, and she did too, trying to pretend that she wasn’t thinking about him shirtless.
“All set?” he said.
“Yeah,” she mumbled, embarrassed by her thoughts.
“All right. I was thinking we’d do a lazy circle, sort of.”
“Lead the way,” she said.
He nudged his horse and started walking, and Rose followed. For a few minutes they were silent, absorbing the scenery.
“So Roman Ranch is also a dude ranch,” he said at length.
“Like you have visitors?”
“Yeah. We can sleep about fifty a night, although it’s rarely that busy.”
“Ah, okay,” she said. “So we should expect to see some other people on horseback?”
“Probably not until the sun drops a bit. It’s still pretty hot for out of towners.”
“I’m guessing you get a lot of people from all over the place,” she said.
“Yeah. A lot from Australia, actually. Apparently they have a really high minimum wage there, so a lot of Aussies come to visit the US.”
“Do you have a lot to do with the day to day affairs of the ranch?”
“Not the dude ranch, that’s Sawyer’s thing. But I deal with the daily grind of the actual ranch. We — my brothers and I — have a manager that keeps up with things, keeps us from forgetting to pay water bills and stuff.”
She nodded thoughtfully.
“I’m actually thinking, once I get the clinic up and running, I should have an assistant. Part time, maybe.”
“Yeah? It’s good to have help.”
“Yeah. I don’t know where I would find someone, though. It’s not like this town has a huge internet presence or anything. That’s the only way I’ve ever found a job, back in college.”
“What was your job?”
“In college? I was a hostess at a restaurant. I was pretty bad at it.”
“I can imagine that not liking being touched didn’t go over well there.”
She blushed. She wished she could tell him it was before… but she couldn’t. She had told three people about the rape, including Shelby. She wanted to tell people there was a reason she was like she was.
She glanced at him, aware that her silence was getting too long. She couldn’t tell him, not yet.
Maybe not ever.
“So do you have any ideas for where I should post the job?” she said, switching to a more neutral topic.
“Sure,” he said. “The diner would be a good place. I think they have a community board, like you can pin up services and jobs and community events.”
The land started to decline, and Rose got a better view of the land. Three long row houses appeared, which she assumed were part of the dude ranch.
“I haven’t been in there yet. Is the food good?”
“They make really good omelettes. And pancakes, according to Shiloh.”
She smiled, picturing Shiloh eating a stack a pancakes. “I’ll have to stop in sometime.”
He smiled, then inclined his head.
“You feel like going a little faster?”
“Su
re,” she said.
“Okay,” he said, kicking his horse into a gallop.
Rose followed suit, edging her horse along until she was even with him. The cantering was very physical; she’d forgotten that just holding on could be so difficult.
At the same time, she couldn’t help but admire Colt’s physique. Again, she was reminded of how much he must ride to get those sorts of muscles. She could see the definition in his forearms, which made her feel weak in the knees.
He also rode with an abandon that she longed for, wished she could find in any aspect of her life. He seemed to give himself over to the ride, to become fluid.
When am I ever fluid? she wondered.
She was almost sad when the land started to drop steeply, bringing their ride to a trot. Down below, the river dominated everything, the sound of it growing louder as they got lower.
“Is that Catahoula Creek?” she asked, nodding at the river.
“It is. I grew up playing in that river, albeit downstream. In an area that was flatter,” he explained.
“I grew up near a creek,” she said absently.
“Let’s ride back toward the house,” he said after a few moments of staring at the river. “Those clouds over there look like rain-bringers.”
She looked. The clouds were dark as cold gray steel, which in Louisiana meant rain. They were a bit to the west of them, but creeping their way fast.
“Yeah, I guess we want to get in before the storm hits.”
They both kicked their horses into a canter, but Rose felt the pitter-patter of rain drops well before they got to the barn. The skies opened on them as they raced to the barn, laughing, breathless with the hurry of it.
When the finally got inside, Rose pulled a face.
“I think I’m going to need help down,” she said.
He dismounted quickly, putting his horse in its stall. Then he came back for her, holding up his arms expectantly. She tried not to blush as she slid into his arms, tried not to blush twice as hard when the moment went on too long.
