CHAPTER 26
COLT
I squinted against the glare, sweat trickling down my temple and pooling at the hollow of my throat. My shirt had plastered itself between my shoulder blades, and the heat showed no signs of letting up.
I’d been on my feet since dawn, but now I let myself lean against the fence and enjoy the show.
McCoy was in the corral, and he was losing.
He’d been splitting his days lately, some working on the ranch and most weekends chasing money on the rodeo circuit. He swore he was just knocking the rust off of something he’d once loved to do, but McCoy was getting far too old to get on the back of a damn bull.
Hell, he was getting his ass handed to him right now by a two-year-old quarter horse.
The filly had a white blaze and attitude for days, and she’d just sent McCoy flying again.
McCoy tried like hell to catch himself as he came off the saddle, but he still ate shit.
The thunk when he landed was followed by the shrill, annoyed snort of the horse, who kicked up her heels and trotted away.
I laughed loud enough for McCoy to hear it, but he didn’t look up. He sat in the dirt for a long second, catching his breath and spitting out grit. “You’re real helpful. Has anyone ever told you that?” Even from a distance, I could see the flush of frustration heating his face.
“Hey—” I held up my hands in defense. “I didn’t say anything. I’m just here to watch the master work.”
He muttered something about being a smart-ass and climbed to his feet, flexing the wrist he always taped before a ride. The horse watched him warily from the far side of the pen, ears pinned and whole body rigid.
“Easy, girl. You’re all right,” he said softly as he approached her again with his hand outstretched, but she wasn’t buying it. She danced away, barely letting him close the gap, and McCoy had to circle the pen twice before she’d let him lay a hand on her neck.
We’d picked up the filly through a rescue, and she didn’t trust us. McCoy thought he’d have her taking a saddle within a few weeks, but I knew better. I’d seen wild before, and this girl was as wild as they came.
But McCoy was patient, and I knew she’d give in to him, eventually. “That’s it, pretty girl.” He nodded to her as he ran his hand down her neck.
“Now I see why all the ladies love you,” I called out, folding my arms over the fence rail and watching McCoy work the filly with a kind of devotedness I’d never seen him show to any girl. “If you whispered things like that to me, I wouldn’t even make you buy me dinner.”
He threw a dry look over his shoulder before he turned back to her. “I like to cook them dinner, thank you very much. Keep things at the house if you know what I mean.”
“With Hunter there?” I tossed back, chuckling. “I can’t imagine coming home with you only to find out you live with your boyfriend.”
The corners of his mouth lifted but didn’t take his attention off the filly. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Colt.” He glanced back at me for only a second. “But it is nice to see, though. I thought your dick was broken, but now that Blaire’s back, I can see that thing is working just fine.”
The sound of her name had the muscle in my jaw flexing and my cock throbbing in my jeans. Every inch of my body responded to her, even now. I could still taste her skin lingering on my tongue, could feel her heat in my palms and smell her on my skin.
Last night replayed in my mind like a constant, slow-motion reel, and every detail was there. I shifted against the fence and tried to focus on anything else.
Blaire had still been asleep when Ruby and I left the house this morning. Her door was slightly open, and she was tangled in her sheets as she slept soundly. I’d thought about waking her up just to see how she’d look at me in the morning light, but I didn’t.
I stood in her doorway for longer than was acceptable, watching her sleep as every part of me ached for her, and then I closed the door and reminded myself of what she said.
This was casual.
Bull-fucking-shit.
I would call it whatever she needed to keep her close, but there’s not a single part of me that believed it.
“What the hell does that mean?” I gripped the fence rail and wiped the sweat off my brow.
McCoy stepped back from the filly, letting her move around the corral freely, as he leaned back against the gate, arms folded.
“Blaire’s been dragging you around by your dick even though she barely said two words to you.” He shrugged as he grinned. “It’s a little pathetic, but entertaining to watch.”
“I think you’re reaching a little there, don’t you?” I glanced away from him because I didn’t need McCoy knowing how right he was.
“I don’t.” He pushed off the gate and turned to face me. “I seriously can’t believe you let her move in with you.” He shook his head.
“She’s not moving in,” I argued, though it sounded defensive. “She’s staying with us until June’s house is repaired. It was a fucking mess in there.”
I would know, since I’d spent several afternoons that I should have been on the ranch over there cleaning it up.
I kicked my boot against the fence post, knocking off a dry clump of dirt.
He let out a long, huffing breath, then gave me a look. “So you’re telling me,” he began, drawing out the words like he was trying to put it all together, “that the girl who blew up your entire life when she left is now sleeping in your guest room like it’s nothing?”
He had every right to be concerned. I’d spent my entire life circling Blaire, and when she left, I’d been destroyed. I thought about last night, about the way she’d looked at me, really looked at me, for the first time in years.
I stared past him, watching the filly circle the corral. Her chestnut coat was streaked with sweat and dust, muscles twitching beneath her skin. Every time McCoy shifted, her eyes flashed with wariness, nostrils flaring as she tracked him, coiled and ready to bolt at the slightest wrong move.
Fuck, she reminded me of Blaire. The way she watched me from beneath her lashes, how she’d lean in only to pull away the moment I reached for her, like my touch might burn.
Always one step ahead, always knowing exactly how to keep me chasing, even when it felt like my heart might shatter from wanting her.
“I’m confused about what’s so hard to understand about that.” I stared at the horse, hoping McCoy would drop it, but he kept digging like a dog after a bone.
“Uh-huh. So you’re just playing landlord. That’s all it is?” He smiled, but his eyes narrowed on me.
“I’m not her landlord, but yeah. That’s all it is.” The words felt thin, but I said them anyway.
The filly nosed the fence near my elbow, her breath warm. I reached out without thinking, but she shied away as she watched me reluctantly.
McCoy was watching me, eyes still narrowed like he already knew everything without me saying a word. “You did it, didn’t you?” he said after a long beat. “You slept with her.”
My ears burned as I met his gaze. I opened my mouth to deny him, but no words came out.
“Holy shit,” he laughed. “You really are a lost cause.”
I wanted to deny it, to play it off, but the memory of her was too fresh, too raw. “It’s not like that,” I lied.
He leaned in, lowering his voice like we were fifteen years old and sneaking my dad’s whiskey behind the barn. “So what’s it like?”
I looked at him, tried to frame it the way I wanted, but all I could come up with was the truth. “It’s…” I started, then stopped. “It’s complicated.”
McCoy snorted. “It’s always going to be complicated with Blaire.”
I rolled my shoulders back and forced the words out like they were true. “We’re keeping things casual at the moment.”
“Colt.” He clapped me on the shoulder, a little too hard, like he was trying to knock some sense into me.
“Listen, I’m not saying you can’t handle it, but I think you should know exactly what you’re signing up for this time.
You can’t just sleep with a girl you’ve been in love with before, and what if she goes back…
” He trailed off, but the implication was obvious.
She said she’d told Grant she wasn’t going back, and I wanted to believe her so badly my chest ached with it.
“I’m well aware.” I nodded, jaw tight. “Don’t you have work you should be doing?”
McCoy raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll get back to work.”
I let out a curse as I turned away from his scrutiny.
He was still watching me, standing at the fence with his arms hooked over the warped pine rail, and I could feel the weight of his gaze like it was a hand between my shoulder blades.
I didn’t want to talk about Blaire, didn’t want him to see how she’d gotten under my skin in a single night and turned me inside out. Even before then.
I needed to move, to get some distance, so I stalked across the yard and reached for the lead rope of my horse.
My skin burned beneath the sun, my pulse beating hard at my neck, and nothing about the day was helping.
Not the sweat, not the ache in my arms, not the overwhelming thoughts of everything I needed to get done.
I swung into the saddle and jerked my hat down low, ignoring the way my hands shook as I gathered up the reins.
I dug my heels in and sent him charging toward the open pasture, his hooves pounding a jarring rhythm that shook through my entire body.
I wanted to outrun it, to tear myself free from the fever of her that had buried into my bones, but wherever I went, Blaire was there.
I could feel her in the hollows of my hands, could smell her on my wrists, could see her every time I blinked.
The way she’d looked at me last night, not just with want but with longing.
The taste of her tongue, the wildness on her face when she came apart in my lap.
The memory of it was so close I couldn’t breathe through it.