Even though I have to start on the stables, I wait until she finally stops. As we walk to the barn, gratification on her face smiles back at me, making me glad I waited until she was finished before moving on.
At the stable, I slide the main door open and step inside. The familiar scent of pine shavings, hay, and horses greets me. Though based on the wrinkles near the bridge of Camilla’s nose, “greets” is not the verb she would use. Violet, on the other hand, smiles like she’s home after being away for so long. But I guess that’s true in a way. When she and Austin were younger, they used to go riding with me several times a week. They’re as comfortable around horses as I am.
“Do you miss riding?” I ask her. “Or do you get to ride in LA?”
What I really want is to find out about Deacon’s father.
Or maybe I don’t want to know about the man who got to fuck her when all I have are my fantasies. Fantasies that Austin would kill me for possessing.
“I’ve ridden a few times in the past couple of years, but not as much as I would like. So yes, I miss it very much.” She inhales deeply, as if filling her lungs with the outdoorsy scent to enjoy once she returns to LA. “I miss all of this very much.”
“You miss the smell of horse dung?” If disgust could generate electricity, there’s enough in Camilla’s sentence to power Copper Creek for a month.
Violet laughs. “Well, not that smell specifically. But I miss the rest of it.”
One by one, I remove the mares and the colts from their stalls and lead them to the pasture where they’ll spend the day. Thor, Odin, and Orion are taken to another pasture.
And so begins the cleaning of the stable.
For the next while, I don’t pay attention to the TV crew. To be honest, I can’t see how watching a cowboy shoveling horseshit would get any woman excited.
“You must be getting hot.” There’s a hint of hopeful impatience in Camilla’s all-business tone.
“Nope, I’m good.”
“Wouldn’t you feel better without your shirt on?”
I barely restrain an eye roll.
“Not to say that you don’t look great with your clothes on,” she says, “but you need to sell yourself more.”
Sell myself more? What am I? A male prostitute?
I open my mouth to argue but then remember why I’m doing this.
While I inwardly curse Noah in a thousand possible ways, I unbutton the shirt and jerk it from the waistband of my jeans.
And because I know that won’t be enough to appease her, I toss it aside, reach back to the collar of my T-shirt, and yank the fabric over my head.
My gaze falls on Violet, and satisfaction parades through me. Her eyes are wide and focused on my stomach. Yes, Violet, not quite the same abs I had when we were teens.
The tip of her tongue smooths along her lower lip, and the satisfaction transforms into something scorching. It’s like she’s imagining running her tongue along the ridges and valleys of my stomach, tasting me. Exploring me.
And shit if my cock doesn’t appreciate the thought.
She’s not thinking of you that way, I remind myself.
My cock doesn’t believe me, so before it can get any harder and betray my secret, I visualize the potential torture techniques Austin might use on me.
That works.
“Well, that’s more like it.” Camilla studies me like I’m livestock waiting to be sold. If I were a horse, she’d been checking my teeth.
Violet lifts her camera, and I take that as my cue to start working again. The clicking of her camera, the scraping of the shovel’s metal edge against concrete, and my slightly labored breaths are the only sounds filling the stable.
The cool air kisses my sweat-covered body as I work hard to finish the job.
Over an hour later, the stalls are clean and fresh shavings cover the floor.
“Do you guys offer riding lessons?” Camilla asks once we’re outside. “One of the ranches my team visited is a dude ranch. You know, where city folk spend a week working and pretending they’re real cowboys. Your house is definitely large enough for numerous guests.”
Granddad would haunt us for all eternity if we turned his ranch into, as he put it, a fancy-ass resort where idiots paid for the privilege of doing the work that he and his men did. And after that, he and his men would have to waste time redoing everything.
Granddad didn’t have much respect for those types of ranches.
“We’ve considered offering lessons.” Well, not so much considered. More like Sophie mentioned it one day, and Jake said no. “We’re just not interested.”
Camilla tilts her head to the side like girls do when they’re flirting. Except there’s nothing in her expression to suggest that’s what she has in mind. “So there’s no chance you’ll take me out on the trail?”
“Do you ride?”
Or more importantly, has she even sat on a horse before? And I don’t mean the kind on a carousel ride.
“No, but I’m a quick learner.”
“Do any of you ride?” I ask the TV crew. I’m guessing not, but maybe they’ll surprise me.
They shake their heads.
Violet’s lips tug up at the corners. She might be smiling, but her eyes are saying so much more. They sparkle with desire.
No, not the kind of desire where she wants me to bend her over a bale of hay and do her from behind. Although I would be all for that.
It’s the kind of desire I’ve seen growing up with her. She wants to ride a horse more than she wants to breathe. She wants to feel the smooth firm muscle between her legs.
My cock seconds that vote—getting it all wrong as to which muscle I’m referring to.
But it does give me an idea—which would be even better if Camilla wasn’t so keen on learning to ride.
“If you would like, I can take you both riding.” As I say it, I silently will for Camilla to say no.
“I would love that,” she says.
Clearly I didn’t will hard enough.
There’s a longing in Violet’s eyes as well as another emotion I can’t peg. She bites her lower lip—a sign I know well.
My gaze appreciates her mouth for another moment, then unwillingly moves away. “What about you?”
Her expression rivals that of a lightning storm, with all its thrilling, awe-inspiring beauty. “That sounds great.”
Now if only I could ditch the producer and camera crew—then we’d be all set.
Not that I can act on my lust when it comes to Violet. But I wouldn’t mind spending time with her, just the two of us.
Camilla helps me partway, telling the guys they don’t have to join us. “There’s no point in shooting footage of TJ hanging out with single women. We don’t want him to come off as a playboy. We want him to come off as a down-to-earth cowboy and ideal boyfriend.”
None of the crew appears disappointed at that.
“All right,” I say. “I still have work to do, but why don’t we plan to ride later this afternoon?”
And if I’m lucky, something will happen to keep Camilla from tagging along.
8
The sun is still high in the sky by the time I introduce Violet to Valkyrie, a mare with spirit in her—but a horse I know she can handle.
Thor, Valkyrie, and Frieda—Camilla’s horse—are standing at the hitching post outside the tack room. Sophie is helping Camilla with her horse, a quiet, mild-mannered mare.
“Valkyrie?” Violet says with a laugh, stroking the horse’s nose. “Still in your comics and Norse mythology phase, I see.”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with geeking on that stuff. Only real men can admit it.” I wink at her, then check over my shoulder to ensure no one can hear us. Even then, I keep my voice low. “How come Austin and Grandma Meg never mentioned Deacon—or that you have a man in your life?”
All right, that was a stretch when it comes to her brother. It’s not like he would ever discuss his sister’s dating life with me.
> But Grandma Meg is another matter.
Violet pretends to adjust the stirrup that we both know is fine. “They don’t tell you everything.”
I snort a laugh. “Hello, have you met your grandmother? There isn’t a person in town who doesn’t know about your great job and how well it’s going.”
She smirks, then gives in to the laugh she was holding back. “Okay, you’ve got a point there.”
“So, does Deacon’s father treat you well? Do you love him?” I didn’t mean to ask the second question. It bulldozed its way out of my mouth, needing to wreck everything in its path.
“There’s nothing to tell. Suffice it to say, he’s not part of Deacon’s or my life. End of story.”
Is there a man in your life? Those are the words I should ask—because if there is, then it’s time for me to hop off this lust train.
Yes, I know I should ask the question—but I can’t seem to shape my mouth around the words.
“Noah looked pretty grumpy when I saw him a few minutes ago,” Violet says.
I chuckle. “That’s ’cause he got stuck doing my afternoon chores, so I can take you riding.”
“And I’m guessing he wasn’t happy about it.”
“He didn’t complain—not much anyway. But I can’t imagine he’s doing backward somersaults over any of it.” I, on the other hand, walked away from the conversation grinning. Especially after I told him what needed to be done.
Let’s just say he’s going to be busy for a while.
“But you have to admit it’s sweet of him to do your chores, so you can take Camilla and me riding.”
My chuckle is heartier this time. “There’s nothing sweet about it. He’s doing it to make up for—”
“Hey, look at me,” Camilla says. “I’m on a horse. Are you guys ready to go?” And then in a quieter voice, she asks Sophie, “So how do I get it to start moving, and how do I steer it?”
“Spoken like a true animal lover,” I say under my breath. People who aren’t animal lovers tend to refer to them as “it.”
Violet giggles. Thor whinnies and nudges my back.
I turn to him. “Okay, boy, we’re going.”
Violet and I mount our horses, and the three of us set out. Because of Camilla’s lack of riding experience, I lead the way and Violet brings up the rear.
At one point, as our horses walk along the dirt path that travels parallel to the river, I twist around in my saddle. Camilla’s gaze is taking in the breathtaking view: the mess of pine and cottonwood trees, bushes, wild grasses, bitterroot flowers. Her horse is long forgotten, plodding along, following Thor.
Violet is behind her, looking completely at peace, like she always did whenever she used to ride. She glances in my direction, smiles, and my heart acts like a newbie line dancer, stumbling a few beats.
That’s new.
I brush it off as the result of the perfect summer day, the perfect scenery, and the not-so-perfect sexual response to the woman I can’t have.
We’ve been riding for forty-five minutes by the time I steer Thor down the worn path to the riverbank. I dismount and lead him to the water, confident he won’t bail on me. While he’s drinking, I help Camilla down from Freida.
She sighs, content. The view has that effect on people. The grassy bank. The shallow stony beach. The pine trees following the curve of the river. The Bitterroot Mountain range. This is nature at its finest.
“I forgot how beautiful it is here.” Even though I can’t see Violet’s face, I can hear the relaxed smile in her voice.
“It’s so quiet.” From the way Camilla says it, I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not.
“I bet it’s not like this in LA,” I say as I walk Frieda down to the water to join Thor.
Violet does the same with Valkyrie. The three horses drink from the river while I fight against the itch to touch Violet. To run my fingers through her hair. To taste her.
The next few minutes are spent with me asking Camilla and Violet questions about LA. Safe enough topic. Although from the way they talk, I get the impression Camilla loves the big city more than Violet. But Violet must love it enough to stay there.
That’s because she has a job she loves in LA. It’s not like she can do it here, I remind myself.
“So how did you get involved with the reality show?” I gesture toward Camilla because I’d rather do that than say Cowboy Most Wanted out loud.
I do have some pride after all—although after this episode goes live in a few weeks, I might not have much left.
“The marketing and publicity firm I work for specializes in the entertainment business. My boss had seen some of the portraits and horse photos I’ve shot over the past few years. She thought it would be a good idea to include professional photographs from the show for publicity purposes. But I’m also involved in the social media side of things.”
“You are?” Do I know what that means?
Not at all.
“That’s my usual job. Or part of it. I work with some of our clients when it comes to their social media accounts. Make sure they’re not putting themselves in the worst possible light.”
She doesn’t roll her eyes, but I know Violet. That’s exactly what she wants to do when it comes to some of her clients. I might not pay attention to social media, and I might not care two shits about what happens in Hollywood, but that doesn’t mean I missed the recent controversy. What happened? According to gossip around town, a celebrity went apeshit on Twitter.
Maybe the actor is a client of Violet’s company—and someone swooped in and cleaned up his mess.
“I don’t suppose you know anything about website design?” My tone is off-handed, but there’s a shitload of hope bubbling beneath the surface.
“I do know a thing or two. Nothing high tech like you’d find with a big-name company, mind you. But I have helped a couple of clients with their websites.”
Camilla, who wasn’t paying much attention to us while we talked, pulls out her phone and checks the screen. “Damn it. I’m not getting any reception.” She holds it up high, as if that will solve the problem.
When that doesn’t work, she paces back and forth. She grunts, then starts walking along the trail we just came from, gaze still on the screen. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Hopefully, we’re talking figuratively, not literally.
“My grandfather set up a website for the ranch,” I tell Violet, “but other than changing a couple of things, we haven’t done much with it since he died. Could you look at it for us?”
Violet steps closer and brushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you want my honest opinion? Or would you prefer I pander to your ego?” A smirk slides onto her face.
I was always a sucker for that smirk. “My ego can take a beating.”
Most of the time.
Her gaze drops to my mouth. Her lips part slightly, and my heart does a quickstep.
She doesn’t want to kiss you, idiot, the rational voice in my head says. So don’t even think about it.
Her eyes flick back up to mine. “Before I say anything, let me preface this with a reminder that I’m not familiar with marketing horses. I’m more familiar with marketing people in the entertainment business to their target audience.”
“Understood.”
She nibbles her lip for a second. “All right. To be honest, your website is boring.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured that.” And then what she really said hits me. “You’ve already checked it out?”
“I might have looked up your website a while ago. After Austin told me you and your brothers had inherited the ranch. I might have been curious.” She turns on the brilliant smile that always leaves my legs a little bit wobbly.
“Do you think you can help us make it better? We’ll pay you, of course.”
She glances at the horses, who are busy eating the grass near the water. It takes her a few seconds before she finally nods. “Okay, but I’ll also need to shoot some pho
tos of your horses and the ranch. And of you and your brothers, too. To give the website a personal touch.”
Now it’s my turn to smirk. “Will that be with or without our shirts on?”
She laughs. “Either way is fine with me. But I wouldn’t mind taking photos of you, this evening, before the sun sets. For the show.” Her gaze drops to my lips again and stays there for longer than considered normal—unless you’re lip reading.
Without thinking things through, I lean in, the scruff on my jaw scraping her soft skin. “Will it be just you or will we have an audience?” The words come out low and husky.
Not exactly how I had planned to say it, but at this point I don’t care.
Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t move away. “It depends if Camilla wants to videotape us or not.”
It’s a good thing we’re standing near the river, because my body temperature just climbed a thousand degrees. I know what she said isn’t how she had intended for it to sound, but my brain instantly jumped to the land of sex videos.
“TJ, do you mind if we head back now?” Camilla’s voice breaks through my desire to brush my lips against Violet’s. The same desire is mirrored back at me in Violet’s eyes.
We turn away from each other and pretend to pay attention to our horses. I’m one step away from whistling a happy, carefree tune.
If I knew any.
Camilla enters the clearing, her focus still on the phone. “I’ve got something I need to discuss with the show’s marketing team, but I still can’t get a signal.”
“Not at all,” I say, silently cursing her untimely return.
Now I just have to hope she doesn’t decide to videotape Violet taking photos of me this evening. Because Violet and I have things to discuss. And our conversation being aired on national TV is not part of my plans.
9
Deacon races through the front entrance of the ranch house. “Horsie.”
Behind him, Grandma Meg enters, carrying a portable high chair. Slight exhaustion lines her otherwise smiling face. She’s babysitting her great-grandson while Violet is staying in Copper Creek.
Cowboy Most Wanted Page 6
