Chapter 17 – Wylie
Friday afternoon
I hated to admit it, but my dad was right.
And so was my great-great-great-grandfather, Homer Cameron—a man I'd never met, yet somehow, managed to pull the strings of my destiny like I was a damn puppet from wherever he lay in his grave.
The days were long, and nights even longer without my dad, Clay and Nash helping on the property and around the home. It would have been comforting to have a woman waiting at home on those nights when there just wasn't time to go out, and all you could manage to do was eat and go straight to bed.
I’d never felt like my bed was cold or lonely. I liked my time spent drinking beer and watching TV in the dark but now even that was getting to me and the prospect of another night of jacking off until I fell asleep didn't seem fun.
I kicked off my work boots and set down my cowboy hat, looking at the black one I’d worn today and thinking about the juxtaposition against the cream one that Stevie had worn the last time I saw her, four weeks ago when we married under the trees right outside my window.
It was probably some sort of symbolism for the difference in our personalities. Mine, dark and empty. Stevie's, light and airy.
I had intentionally kept my distance from Cameron ranch to respect her space and curtail the odd protective instinct that had surged within me since our rushed vows. And the more that I stayed away, the clearer my thoughts became.
Stevie didn't want this any more than I did; I was foolish to think I had any claim on her now that she was my wife on paper. It was just a legal maneuver to secure what I needed, and whatever her motives, remained a mystery to me, but it wasn't my place to care or ask. Over the next five months, we'd continue our separate lives as we had before this fake marriage, and then she would return to Houston and be out of my mind for good.
This was the right approach and nothing more could ever come out of our arrangement, I reassured myself as I walked into my home.
It was Friday night, and after another grueling day spent with Mitchell, roping a loose cow, and fending off wild animals that threatened our livestock, I finally holstered my gun and secured it in the safe in my dad's office. As I turned to wash up, contemplating how to unwind, my phone pinged with a text message.
Red: You coming to Rex's Rodeo House Bar tonight? Dove is singing a couple songs as a treat to the community and there's going to be line dancing.
Fuck if that didn’t sound like exactly what I needed to take the edge off the past month of madness. Dove was Red's younger sister and a full out rock star now who toured the world. On occasion, she'd come back to Lonestar Junction to visit her family on their ranch and take a break from her wild lifestyle. When she’d visit, she’d usually grace the community with a free performance as a thanks for our support.
Going out tonight with Red would distract me enough to give me something pretty to look at and remind me that I was being ridiculous sitting here, thinking about a woman who never really wanted me.
I fired off a response acknowledging I'd be there and headed to the shower to try to wash off the memory of Stevie. Of course, as soon as the warm water hit my skin my hand found my cock like a magnet, and I jacked off to memories of fucking her from behind.
When I sufficiently unloaded all over the shower floor, I felt a little better about the night. I wouldn't touch Red tonight, even if I knew it'd help me get Stevie off my mind, but at least now, I could look without thinking of Stevie's golden hair instead.
I threw on a pair of ripped jeans, an all-white t-shirt and brown cowboy hat. When I went to grab my keys, my phone pinged again, this time with a notification from Nash.
Nash: Rode House Bar tonight at 8. Stevie will be there. Behave.