The Promise

by River Laurent

  In Lars’ silvery eyes, I see nothing but raw emotion, the pupils so enlarged they make his eyes appear almost black. In the space between us, I feel him wiggling around beneath the water. When he holds his boxers above the water, I reach for my panties. Peeling them off effortlessly, I hold them up. I see him take a sharp breath.

  With a triumphant smile, I fling the scrap of material away.

  Slowly, much slower than before, he reaches for my body. His eyes depict a serious warning that I should take heed, but I don’t. Instead, I lean eagerly toward him. I think he is going to kiss me again, but he avoids my mouth and goes for the base of my throat, peppering barely felt kisses all the way to my ear. When he reaches my ear, he takes the lobe between his teeth and bites down, and I shake like a leaf, almost unable to hold myself on my two feet.

  I pull back and whisper. “What now?”

  His hands grab my waist and pull me against him—close enough for me to feel all of him press into me. His cock jerks impatiently against my belly. “I’m going to spread you open and make you mine. I’m going to sink so deep inside you, you won’t be able to walk for days,” he whispers thickly into my ear. “Not yet. But soon. Very soon.”

  With a growl, he turns away from me and exits the water wearing nothing but his dignity. I watch him dress.

  “Come on out. I won’t watch,” he says, turning away from me and giving me the opportunity to come out of the water and dress without being seen.

  I can’t decide if I want him to be a gentleman, or if I’d rather he watch as I exit the water. Either way, I leave the water, leaving my bra and underwear at the bottom of the pond, likely never to be seen again. The water laps around my knees when he turns around. I freeze. His chest heaves up and down and his eyes glow with a fierce hunger.

  ‘You said you wouldn’t watch.”

  “Why wouldn’t I look at what’s mine?” he asks.

  I take the last few steps to dry land and dress quickly. Then I follow him back to the horse barn, neither of us speaking, as if nothing had happened.

  But something did happen, and I can’t help but feel as if this is the turning point of our relationship.

  Chapter 35

  Cass

  After skinny dipping with my boss, I thought it would feel uncomfortable, but it isn’t. What I really feel is antsy. Lars has initiated close contact and a bone-melting kiss, but he has deliberately left me flustered and craving more.

  I FaceTime Jesse as soon as I reach the house. As soon as she answers, I lay back on my bed.

  She squints at me. “You look…hmmm…what’s that look? Aroused. Oh, wait. Is that drool? Have you been reading smut? Or have you been opening the big book of Lars the Cowboy,” she teases.

  “Jesse, I don’t know what to do,” I wail.

  “So you have been opening the big book,” she pounces.

  “I might have glanced at the first page.”

  She laughs. “Remind me again what’s on the first page?”

  “We skinny dipped in the pond and kissed.”

  “This sounds like a very interesting book,” she says with a mischievous grin. “Why don’t you see what’s on the next page?”

  “I want to, but it’s such a bad idea.”

  “Why is it a bad idea?”

  “Because—”

  “—Yeah, yeah,” she pretends to yawn hugely. “I remember how this soap opera goes. You like him, but you don’t want to like him, because you’ll never see him again after this job. I think it’s bullshit. You should just sleep with him and be done with it.”

  “Well, I just wish I hated him more than I do. Then maybe I could do what you say. Go to bed with him, enjoy the sex for what it is, and walk away without a second glance.”

  “You only have like ten days left. Just do it. You’ll be fine,” Jess encourages.

  “Nine days,” I correct.

  “Even better. Fuck like rabbits at night...dirty, sweaty, flesh slapping flesh, meaningless sex, and keep your distance during the day.” Jesse is making it sound like a walk in the park, but that’s partly my fault. I’ve been seriously under-exaggerating my feelings for Lars

  “Jesse, I have feelings for him,” I finally admit with a sigh. “And they’re growing. A lot.”

  She sits up straighter. “Oh, mistake! Since when? I mean, the guy doesn’t even know your real name.”

  I bite my lip. “I know he doesn’t. Okay, I just needed to talk this out and hear you say the words. Thank you, Jesse. I love you,” I say and hang up. She can’t give me good advice in this situation because there’s no good advice to give. My phone continues to ring as she tries to call me back, but I put it on silent.

  I stand from my bed, walk toward my dresser mirror, and stare at my reflection. I would have never guessed that being someone else could be so difficult. It was meant to be just a job and nothing else, but now I’ll be leaving a piece of my heart behind in Montana. My phone rings again and with a sigh, I go and pick it up, thinking it is Jesse—but it isn’t.

  Strange, Tamara has never called at this time of the day. I accept the call and she comes on. She is still in bed.

  “Hello, Tamara,” I say politely.

  “Don’t you know how to take a good photo?” she asks sourly.

  “What?”

  “That photo you sent of that Lars guy. It might as well be the backside of a fucking rhino.”

  Holy purple cows! This woman is unbelievable. “Well, I didn’t want him to know that I was taking his picture,” I explain.

  She yawns. “Take a couple more and send them to me this morning.”

  “It’s already evening here and I won’t see him again today. I’ll do it tomorrow,” I promise.

  “All right. Get me shots that show his body.”

  A steel claw grips my stomach and I try not to show any emotion on my face. “Okay,” I whisper. Thank God, the screen goes black. She disconnected the call. Slowly, I put the phone down on the dresser.

  Oh God. She wants him for herself. When I leave, he’s going to think I’m her, and he’s going to sleep with her. An imagine of her bouncing on the blond man flashes into my mind. The blond man morphs into Lars and my heart hurts. I lean on the dresser and lower my head. Nine days. I have nine days to lose the feelings I have for a man I shouldn’t have fallen for in the first place.

  I don’t know how long I stand in my room and try to brainstorm ways to stay away from Lars, but I know there is no way I’ll be able to do it. On top of that, I don’t even want to stay away from him.

  Finally, I rouse myself, and begin peeling the clothes off my body as I walk into the bathroom. I have plenty of time to take a hot shower and clear my mind before dinner, so I do. When I get out, I feel no better. Maybe I’ll take a walk around the ranch, I think as I get into a pale pink, low cut T-shirt with a shredded back. It’s cute and not too revealing, with a tank top underneath. Then I throw on a pair of frayed light shorts. They are inappropriately short, but there is not much choice.

  Quickly running a brush through my hair, I go into the kitchen to look for Emma Jean.

  Chapter 36

  Cass

  The counters are lined with appetizers and food designed for large gatherings, and Emma Jean is wrapping a large glass bowl of potato salad with cling wrap. She sends a big smile in my direction.

  “What’s going on tonight?” I ask curiously.

  “Lars didn’t tell you?”

  I shake my head.

  “We have barn parties every few months for the employees who live on site. There are a bunch of them, so the party is usually quite large.”

  “A barn party?” I ask.

  Emma Jean turns the stove off and moves a large pot off the burner.

  “Yup. They’re quite fun. There’s music and dancing.”

  “Will…will Lars be there?”

  “He hasn’t missed one yet.”

  “Right.”

  “Lars throws the parties, so he makes sure to be at all o
f them,” she explains.

  “Are the employees the only ones who will be there?” I ask with a frown. I haven’t had to act like Tamara in front of too many people yet, but if I’m surrounded by people who know more about her, how am I supposed to be convincing while acting like myself. For the most part, I’ve been able to be myself lately, but that’s all going to have to change in a crowd.

  “No, dear. All the employees will be here, but it’s not limited to staff. Often, they’ll bring family members and friends along with them.”

  I bite my thumb. “Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

  Emma Jean turns her full attention to me. “Why would a pretty little thing like you not want to go to a party?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know how everyone expects me to act,” I admit.

  “No one expects you to be anything but yourself.”

  I hesitate. She doesn’t know the real reason I don’t want to go.

  “Honey, listen to me. You’re a great person. I don’t know what you’re like when you’re in the big city, or what you’ve done over there, but I’ve never seen you be disrespectful toward me, and I can tell you are a fine person. We’re all simple country folk here and ain’t nobody here gonna expect anything from you. You just be yourself and they can damn well like it, or take a hike,” she says passionately.

  I smile and wish I could be honest with her.

  “Personally, I think you’ve changed a fair bit since you’ve been here.”

  “Really? In what way?” I have tried to gradually become less like Tamara as the days progressed, so if they believe I have changed, I have done my job. That also means that I will be able to act like myself.

  “When you came here, you looked like you had your head on the chopping block waiting for the hatchet to drop, but over the last two weeks, I’ve seen the cares drift away from your eyes and you’ve blossomed like a flower.”

  I grin at her. “Why, Emma Jean, I don’t think anyone has ever referred to me as a flower before.”

  “They will when they see you now,” she says with a firm nod.

  A door across the kitchen shuts with a click, and I turn toward the entrance. Footsteps grow closer then Lars fills the kitchen door, looking as fine as hell. My heart skips a beat. Only he can make a flannel shirt and jeans look sexy.

  His eyes widen as his gaze travels down my body. I realize his choice of clothing is a major contrast to my pale pink top and beach shorts.

  “Should I change?” I ask.

  He rubs his chin thoughtfully, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I don’t know. You’re making me sweat like a sinner in church in that getup, buttercup, but you probably should wear something warmer. Once the sun goes down, it’s going to get cold. Do you have a sweatshirt or a shawl?”

  Of course, there isn’t a shawl in my suitcase. I doubt Tamara has even heard of such a thing. She probably thinks it’s one of the ingredients in rat poison. All Tamara’s servants have packed for me to wear when I am around people is small, barely there clothing. There are no sweatshirts, hoodies, or jeans without strategically placed rips. I shrug. “I don’t really have anything warmer.”

  Lars looks me up and down once more, his eyes lingering on my legs. Then, he begins unbuttoning his shirt. My eyes get pulled to his chest, which surprisingly, isn’t bare. A white wife beater clings tightly to his frame as he extends his flannel in my direction. “I can’t do anything about the shorts, but at least I can warm your top half.”

  My heart lurches at the smoldering expression in his eyes. I take the flannel shyly. “You have another one, right?”

  Lars chuckles. “Of course. Be right back.”

  After he leaves the room, I strip off my pale pink over-shirt and slide the large flannel over my black tank top. It’s still warm from his body and smells heavenly. I smooth it down and it falls to halfway down my thighs. It’s at least triple my size, but it’s a nice change from the tight clothes I’ve been wearing lately.

  “Here, let me,” Emma Jeans says, coming over to me and grasping the two front ends at the bottom of the shirt. Expertly, she ties them into a rose-shaped bow at my waist.

  “Wow, that looks cute!” I exclaim.

  “Let me go get a pin,” she says and leaves the kitchen.

  Lars struts back into the kitchen dressed in a gray and black flannel. He whistles low and long. “You sure give flannel a good name, Honeywell,” he drawls as he approaches me. I allow him to take my hand and guide it to his chest while he rolls the sleeve up to my wrist.

  I smile up at him, mesmerized by his piercing gray eyes and dimpled smile.

  A small click echoes from across the room and both Lars and I turn our heads simultaneously. Emma Jean is standing on the other side of the kitchen counter with a camera pointed directly at us. Lars turns back, calmly finishes rolling the sleeve, and lays my hand gently back at my side with a slight squeeze. Was it intentional, or was it merely a friendly gesture? Then he blanks his expression—possibly for Emma Jean’s sake—and turns to look at her. “What are you going to do with that?” he asks with a light-hearted tone.

  “I’ll keep it with all my other memories,” Emma Jean says with a smile. Carefully slipping the camera back into her pocket, she comes up to me and fastens a pin into the rose bow. “There you go. You’ll be the belle of the ball,” she declares, standing back and looking at me with satisfaction.

  “Yes, she will,” Lars agrees.

  I swear I blush to the roots of my hair.

  “Right, I guess I better load everything up into the truck and head out,” Lars tells Emma Jean.

  “Careful not to tip the containers,” she cautions.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Lars says, carrying out the first batch of food. I grab two trays and follow him. When we get back inside, Emma Jean is standing over a pot still bubbling on the stove. She stirs the contents and looks up at us. “You can take everything else but the chili. It isn’t ready. I’ll drop it off at the barn when I head out for the night.”

  “You don’t have to do that. The pot’s heavy. I’ll come and get it,” Lars says.

  “It’s no bother. This is not heavy for me.”

  “No, I have to insist that you don’t carry it yourself,” Lars says.

  “All right. I’ll call Chance or Barry to come get it.”

  “Fine. Do you or Jack need anything?”

  “Nope. We’re good. You kids don’t wait around. Go on and have a good time.”

  “How is Jack doing anyway?”

  “Honey, don’t act like you don’t call him a few times a week to see how he’s doing.”

  I turn to look at Lars and a dull flush of embarrassment stains his cheeks, making him look utterly adorable.

  “He’s healing up nicely, but I don’t know if I want him training horses anymore. A man of his age shouldn’t be jumping on and off wild horses, but he’s a stubborn mule and won’t back down.”

  Lars inclines his head and listens quietly.

  Emma Jean clasps her hands together. “He doesn’t want to let you down, but it’s about time for him to retire,” she says quietly. I can tell that she feels awful about her opinion, but I understand why she’s saying it. Her husband is too old to be doing such a physically exerting job.

  After having worked with horses for less than a month, I can categorically say that I’ve gained muscle in places where I never even knew you could have muscles. The job is not only physically, but also mentally trying.

  “Hey, don’t feel bad, Emma Jean. I completely understand. You two have worked for me long enough, and if either of you wants to retire, it’s okay by me. The pension will kick in as soon as the paperwork’s done. I’ll get Steve to explain the whole process to Jack so he has a better understanding of it all.”

  Emma Jean looks at him gratefully, her eyes brimming with tears. “You’re a dear, Lars. Thank you.”

  I look at Lars’ handsome profile and realize that his ways are brash and arrogant, but his heart is big and generous. Whe
n it feels as if he can’t get any more perfect, he surprises me yet again.

  Chapter 37

  Cass

  We drive the short distance toward the brightly lit, huge barn, capable of holding hundreds of people. Will there be that many, I wonder nervously.

  “What should I expect at a barn party?” I ask.

  He turns to me with a crooked grin. “A hog-killin’ time.”

  I crinkle my nose at the description.

  Lars laughs. “That’s country talk for a blast.”

  “Oh yeah?” I say doubtfully.

  “I swear, it’s just good clean fun. Food, beer, and a bit of dancing.”

  I chew my lower lip. “What are the chances of anybody in there recognizing me?”

  He stops smiling and throws me a serious glance. “Do you want to be recognized?”

  I shake my head vigorously.

  He grins. “I can’t be a hundred percent certain, but it’s a pretty safe bet that no one in there has heard of you.”

  A great weight falls from my chest. No one in there knows about the bad reputation Tamara has in L.A. I can just relax and be myself. “How many people come to these parties?” I ask as Lars parks and kills the engine.

  There is music coming from the massive building and shadows dance across the ground. I have yet to see any bodies, but judging from the pickups parked all around us, I know they’re all inside. Lars comes around, opens my door for me, and offers a hand to help me down from the truck.

  “It’s hard to say. I never really know what to expect. This party should be smaller than most, since five families are on vacation and some folks couldn’t make it. I expect around seventy-five to turn out, but I could be wrong. There could be a lot more, or less, depending on the guests they bring.”