Chapter 21 Stetson
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
stetson
Think anyone would notice if Austin suddenly went missing?
Feeding him to the hogs doesn’t sound too shabby right about now. Unfortunately for me, I can’t do anything but hang back and watch his sad attempt at defiling Cove.
But I can’t help but think—maybe she likes his roaming hands? The grimace she attempts to hide when his hand slides from her lower back to her full ass cheeks tells me something dangerously different. Something that makes me believe something is really fucking off.
I’m going crazy inside.
She has on this tight, stretchy yoga thing. Set? Outfit? Hell if I actually know what it’s called. What I do know is that it’s hot pink, scrunched at the butt, and has a zipper at the center of the chest.
A.k.a. really fucking sexy.
All of my family and friends who are crashing for the week are congregated behind the main house, where I have a target range set up for practice.
One of the things my pops and I loved to do was spend time out here drawing in our bows.
Hunting and fishing are a way of life in the South, something that provided my family and me an excuse to both be outdoors and spend time together.
Mom and Abigail would bring their lawn chairs out here and sip root beer floats while Dad and I competed for best shot.
And I’ve never broken my winning streak.
By the looks of it, city boy here hasn’t shot a compound bow a day in his life. Makes me even more satisfied to know I made sure he got the heaviest bow in my collection, nearly close to one hundred pounds. Pretty cars and Daddy’s money can only get you so far, I suppose.
The five-lane range is safeguarded by concrete walls and arrow-proof netting, providing safety from load and fire. Each lane has a three-foot by three-foot target made from top-of-the-line polyethylene foam and straw, and is placed on top of a foul-proof pedestal to set up an accuracy challenge.
Prater and the guys took lane one, followed by a few family members, and Abbi and Kyle on the other.
The farthest lane, lane five, is where Austin attempts to show Cove how to draw back the bowstring.
While his hold should be steady, he’s shaking, his hands rattling the drawback with zero control.
And that right there is how someone gets hurt.
Anger consumes me as I race toward their lane, careful not to startle him with a weapon but enough to show I’m pissed. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Austin glances over his shoulder with a determined grin. “Showing my girl how to do it.”
“How to do what exactly?” I grit through my teeth.
Cove stands to the side, watching our interaction play out. “Shoot the thing, of course,” he informs me. “Princess has never done it before. Figured if anyone should show her, it’s me.”
Austin raises the bow again, hands and arms still quivering with nerves, while he fires the arrow, sending it straight to the dirt. “Not my best, but you get the concept.” He faces Cove with a smile of pride, and the hesitation on her face makes me want to save her once again.
“Move,” I snap, shoving Austin to the side. “Give me that.” Without argument, he hands over the bow, and I make room for Cove to stand in front of me, putting us face-to-face. “Come here. Let me help you.”
At first, I think she may protest, but I’m relieved to see that her spite from this morning has vanished, and she actually wants to learn something.
Although I’m doing this for purely selfish reasons.
“And here I thought Austin was doing just fine.” I hear Jules’ voice before I see her, and I should have expected her to mark her territory somehow. After the stunt she pulled last night, trying to beg her way into my bed, I’ve about had it. I won’t stand for a pissing contest on my ranch.
She’s a nice woman, but she’s not Cove. And even before Cove, I made it blatantly clear I was no longer interested in fooling around.
No matter how many times I tell her what we had was over, she’s insistent on trying again.
Once Clay gets here tomorrow, I intend to put him in charge of entertaining her.
She’s no longer my problem.
Hell, maybe I’ll even set them up. Anything to put me in the clear.
“Austin,” I emphasize, “almost shot down everyone here. Seems someone needed to intervene and make sure nobody dies today.”
Jules reaches her arm out to graze mine, and I don’t miss Cove’s eyes following the motion. There’s no way she’d react like that if she were happily in a relationship.
“Stetson. Come on. Why don’t you show me how to shoot and let Austin help his girlfriend? He seemed to be doing just fine. Besides, the range couldn’t be any safer than it already is,” Jules insists.
I wait for Cove to speak. To show me some inclination that what we have is still here. Despite it being so fucking wrong. If this is the only way I can touch her—have her—then so be it.
I’m a greedy man.
Cove inserts herself into the conversation gracefully. “I’ve always wanted to learn. Guess it makes sense to learn from the best. You don’t mind if Stetson teaches me, right, babe?” She turns to Austin for permission, and the guy looks dumb as rocks, with stars in his eyes.
Yeah. Join the club, man.
“If Stetson says he’s the best, then I guess so,” Austin responds, stepping backward to watch from a distance.
What kind of guy lets another man touch his woman?
“You may want to stand back there,” Cove whispers behind her to Jules, who’s still watching with hope in her eyes. “Wouldn’t want to accidentally shoot you.” her soft giggle shouldn’t make me proud, but it does.
“Right…” Jules sighs, leaving us to it.
I search the yard for Nate, wondering where he’s been, before Cove whispers so only I can hear, “He has meetings all morning. He’ll join us for dinner.”
It’s like she can read my mind.
“Thank you,” I mumble hoarsely, finally putting us back to chest and setting up the bow. I make sure to speak closely, letting her feel my heated breath against her skin, the goosebumps that rise on her flesh a physical reminder of our chemistry that’s nowhere close to dead.
We’re a match. Let anyone tell me different.
“Hate to say I’m sad to see you trade in the heels for sneakers. But I think I might enjoy this side of you just as much, if not more,” I tell her, unable to hide the way my eyes drink her in.
“You really are shit at jokes,” she quips. “I can do just about anything in stilettos. Don’t challenge me, Stetson. Besides, you’re supposed to be mad at me, remember?”
“Oh, I’m very fucking mad. Don’t mistake me. Now, focus on my words. The thing to remember when shooting a compound bow is to have a steady hand. Place your thumb along the arrow rest and let the riser be your guide.”
“What’s the riser?”
“This part right here.” I point to the center body of the frame. “This is where the bow is anchored. It’s important to be still once you’ve found your spot.”
“How do I find my spot?” Cove asks curiously, and I love being the one to teach her this.
The heat from outside causes unintentional contact between us, making me more aware of every inch of her.
Her plump ass unknowingly swaying against my lower half.
Her long ponytail of curls clinging to the sweat on my arm.
I step closer, caging her in without an escape.
Cove’s entire frame is cocooned at my center, right where she belongs.
I let the touch of my non-dominant hand meet her hip as I adjust her position. My thumb caresses the exposed skin of her stomach, unashamedly groaning when she whimpers just slightly.
No one can hear her. But I sure as hell did.
“I knew you missed me,” I whisper gruffly, loving to prove her wrong. “If you wanted my hands on you, Cove, all you had to do was ask.”
“Have you always been this much of an asshole?” she asks while I conjoin both our fingers on the trigger loop and carefully stretch the bowstring back into position.
I can tell she wants to face me, her eye meeting mine in her peripheral as we fight to keep this untethered pull from bonding together again. I’m not sure anything is strong enough to keep us apart, and I’m realizing that more and more.
How did I ever expect to stay mad at her?
“I’ll always be an asshole where you’re concerned. Especially when I’m forced to watch you with someone who isn’t me. You understand that, don’t you? The feeling of intense jealousy?”
She knows I mean her reaction to Jules. And I refuse to tell her how unbearably happy it made me. “That’s foul play.”
“Is it now?”
“Yes. You’re always touching me and showing up when I least expect it.” She’s flustered, and I’m instantly hard. “I can’t think straight.”
I chuckle loudly, likely bringing eyes on us, but only we know how deep our connection goes. She’s cute when she gets embarrassed. “I think that’s what smart people call a crush, Cove. They’d say you have a crush on me.”
She hums. “You sound like Betsy.”
“Always did like her,” I tease.
Cove ignores me before continuing with her thought. “Well, in that case, I’d ask where these smart people studied because that sounds like a load of shit to me.” Her chin turns up, and I feel young again, fighting for the attention of the girl who has never once given me the time of day.
Except, she did.
“What about city boy over there? Do you have a crush on him?”
I know I shouldn’t ask, but there’s this aggressively possessive side of me that comes out around Cove, and the thought of her showing her affections to someone who isn’t me…well, that makes me want to get on my knees and beg for her to pick me instead. Might even bark if I needed to.
And more importantly, put Austin on the next flight home. Just because I’m feeling generous, he can even use my spare jet. Whatever will have him gone the fastest.
I’m playing boyish games, but I want my prize. Wrapped in a pretty red bow and all.
Speaking of—I still need to talk to Nate.