Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
Tagger
What the fuck am I doing?
Baylor is going to fucking kill me.
He was the ultimate player, still is, and I definitely learned my skills from him. I’m a little rusty in the area of chasing women since it’s not something I have to do in the city. There, they drop like flies for any line I feed them. Not here. Not with her . . .
Hearing her boldly talk about making love has thrown my thoughts out of whack. With me, a guy she’s known her whole life and probably despised for most of it. Why would she do that? To taunt me? Tempt me? Maybe we’re buddies now and talk about these things without it being in reference to us. Maybe, but it didn’t feel that way.
I think she was trying to get a rise out of me one way or the other, and it worked for both. I can’t look at her now, but not because I don’t want to. I want to stare at her and memorize every freckle on her face. I want to stare into those blue eyes to find the flash of gold that sparked for me the other day. I want to kiss those pink lips, and I don’t kiss anyone these days, not in that way.
I’m so fucked.
I watch her racing toward me as if I’m a house on fire and she’s the woman for the job. She might be. But if she wasn’t distracting enough, being in the saddle again has messed with the rest of my head. Nightfall is powerful—long legs, solid muscle, and as dark as night. It’s been too long since I’ve ridden, but we settled in together to get the work done. But I’m reminded of how good it feels to be outside for a job, breathing in the fresh air under blue skies without a skyscraper in sight.
The highest viewpoint is the ridge of our town’s namesake, Peachtree Pass. Just below, the river flows even in times of drought. It’s a constant in an ever-changing world. Even this property has changed so much since I was last out here years earlier. New equipment barn, more fields plowed, growing crops. It’s become a bigger business than I realized. I wonder if Baylor knows since he doesn’t frequent these parts that much anymore.
He's lucky he hasn’t reached the burnout I have. Yet. He will. The city, the job in finance, the lifestyle. It will bury him eventually, like it did me. I’ll be there for him as he has been for me. Except when it comes to his sister. He’s managed to keep her under wraps for the most part.
Now I know why. Because he knows me too well.
But I didn’t expect to discover that there’s no hiding her beauty once you're in her presence. Her long hair flies behind her as she rides, the sun catching strands of gold and paler blond and streaks of light brown that tangle together and flow from underneath her hat. She looked cute at the store in her dress with little flowers, but I’m not minding the jeans and tees she wears either. Nothing has clung to her body, but the clothes fit enough to tell what’s underneath. Still, I wouldn’t be upset to see her naked.
I lift my hat and run my hand over my hair before setting it back in place where it feels more natural than the suits and Italian loafers I’m usually stuck wearing.
She and her horse slow on approach and shift to the side of us. “Hey, good workout here today,” she says. “Once you wrangled the last calf inside the pasture, I closed the gate. Reggie is setting up the barn with fresh water for the night, so we’re good to go.”
“We can clock out?”
“Thank you for coming today. You helped make easy work of it. We’re officially off the clock.” Although a smile is there when she lowers her eyes to her fidgeting hands, it falls right after. Peeking up under her lashes, she adds, “So . . . guess you’re free to go.”
“I was free to go at any time. I stayed because I wanted to, Pris.” I lean to my side and lift her chin until her eyes are set on me with the spirit of the woman who ran this ranch like a boss today. Sitting back, I say, “It’s hot. I was thinking about the river and cooling off like we used to when we were kids. Any interest?”
“I have some interest.” Her smile returns and brings out mine. “Do you want to go to the house and get bathing suits? I’m sure Baylor left one or two behind.”
Looking in the distance at the ridge, I say, “I was hoping we could just go.”
“Go, as in no suits?” I turn back to see the surprise in her eyes, though she hid it well in her tone. It’s not all shock, though. Enticement dances in her eyes as she looks across the grassy land toward where the river flows. “Race you?” She takes off with a lift in her stirrups and a “Ya, let’s go” to her horse. Sunrise runs as if the devil is chasing her.
Nightfall takes off, sending me back in the saddle, and I barely catch myself. Shit . This horse is fast. I tighten my grip on the reins and right myself, angling forward and keeping low just above the horse’s mane. He’s too fast, and I’m out of practice, but we find our rhythm and catch up to them.
Pris shines like the star she always was in the rodeo ring. Her happiness spreads across her features as her body is one with her horse. She glances over at me, and I see the fire in her eyes and the freedom that embodies her.
She’s beautiful.
And when we slow near the trees where the river runs just beyond, she looks at me like I’m getting credit when it’s not due. No credit needed. Only the freedom to leave the rest of the world out of our business for a short time, just the two of us alone together. “I don’t ride like that anymore. It was amazing.”
“Barrel racing, right?” Nightfall walks through a blanket of pine needles left over from winter. A tree comes between Pris and me, but her eyes find mine as soon as we pass.
“In another lifetime.”
“And a beauty queen to boot.”
“Rodeo queen,” she corrects with a laugh, her spine relaxing on the easy walk. “Lauralee won the festival.”
“They made a mistake.” I don’t mean to sound so serious. Is it normal to feel ill-will toward their bad decision eight years after the fact?
I notice how her eyebrows arch. It’s subtle, but she caught the bitterness that kidnapped my tone. “How do you figure, cowboy?”
We pull in the reins when we reach the edge of the rocky creek. I take in our surroundings—isolated and in shadow on the bank atop a large limestone shelf overlooking the water. With a grin and some gumption, I speak my mind. “From where I’m sitting, you’re fucking fantastic.” I could go on about the healthy, rosy cheeks and the pride in her eyes that comes with the exhilaration we both just felt, but I’ve already crossed one forbidden line. I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but one line or ten, we’re both adults here. And Baylor’s nowhere to be found.
She laughs, directing her attention forward again before swinging her leg over and hopping down from the horse. “If only you had been one of the judges.” She anchors the reins around the horn on the saddle, leaving Sunrise to decide to stay or walk away.
I dismount and follow her down large rocks that have fallen like large steps for the gods. A nice wide platform is a good place to take off our clothes. She’s already one boot ahead of me, seeming to have no reservation about stripping down in front of me or jumping in the water that I remember being cold this time of year.
“It’s probably like ice in there,” I say, leaving my hat hanging on a branch next to hers. Starting on one boot and then the other, I begin to wonder how far she’ll take it. Are we talking bra and underwear or nothing but the outfit we were born with? I’ll let her lead and take the cue from there.
“I swear I have a fever after all that riding.” Pulling a hand away from the top button of her jeans, she holds the back of it to her head. “Muscles burning and the heat getting the best of me out there today.” Lowering her hand again, she pops the button and slides the zipper down without hesitation. “A cold shower was going to be my reward before dinner. Now, I can cool off here and take a hot shower later for my muscles.”
Every word from her mouth is an invitation for my thoughts to go wild. I’d be happy to help her with those sore muscles. I have an aching one myself.
What the fuck am I doing? And thinking?
I’ve become a fucking pervert around her. Get a hold of yourself, Grange . It’s a chick. It’s not like I’ve never seen one or fucked plenty. In the city, I can send a text, and a woman will show up in high fucking heels and nothing else but a trench coat ready to fuck in less than an hour if I wanted. So why am I tripping over myself for this one?
I know.
Pris is the forbidden. And nothing will taste as sweet as this peach.
She’s a delicacy I can’t— holy . . . I start to pace, needing a moment with my back to her to get a fucking hold of myself. Don’t do this, Grange . You’re going to regret it.
You won’t be able to look your best friend in the eyes ever again without guilt hanging over your head. Fuck me.
I turn back because I’m a weak sister-fucker and indulge myself.
Standing in nothing but a white cotton bra with lace wrapped around her ribs and pale pink bikini underwear with a white silk flower, drawing my attention straight to the top of her waistband, she asks, “Coming with me?”
Insinuation after invitation after every double entendre in the book. She’s good. Very fucking good. “Yeah, I’m coming with you.”
I tug off my shirt as she steps down into the water. I see her hesitate, but then she keeps going to the deeper part of the river. As I strip off my jeans, I watch her dip under, then come up with her hair slicked and even longer against her back when wet.
A streak of sunshine leaves that part of the river in the hottest part of the day, but I’m still leery. As a kid, it was nothing dealing with the icy river. I could have a heart attack now. Okay, a bit of a wuss response. How bad can it be? She’s in there swimming in the current.
After my socks come off, I step to the edge. “How cold is it?”
“It feels great.”
It only takes one step in the water to know she’s lying. “Damn, it’s cold. How are you out there and not shivering?” I keep wading out until my ass is under, then keep going.
“I was, but I wanted you to suffer with me.”
“Gee, thanks, Pris. I owe you one.”
She laughs and dips under again. When she comes back up, she says, “Just get in. It’s not so bad once you’re in the sun.”
When the sun hits my face, maybe it’s all in my head, but I appreciate the heat and try to soak it in. Reaching the same depth as her, I can still stand with my shoulders above the water. I dip under, though, because I have a big-as-fuck ego and feel the need to prove that I can at least match her in this arctic-temp water.
When I come up, I catch her bottom lip shiver and notice goose bumps covering the tops of her arms. “Come here. I’ll warm you up.”
She swims into my arms and, at first, tucks her head over my shoulder with her body pressed to mine. I rub the soft skin of her back and hold her in my arms. She’s smaller with me wrapped around her, her elbows a little bony, but as I slide my hands lower and over the curve from her waist to her hips under the water, I nuzzle my nose along the shell of her ear, and whisper, “Better?”
Nodding, she dips her head back and then leans far enough to look into my eyes with her arms around my neck. Her gaze trails to my mouth before her eyes close, and she kisses me.
I wanted this just like she did, but having her take the lead is such a fucking turn-on. I take hold of the back of her head with one hand and keep her middle pressed to mine as I deepen the kiss.
Her lips are as soft as they looked in the truck last night. And the way they’re embracing mine has me holding her as close as I can and memorizing the feel of her tongue to remember later. The grind of her hips has me craving more, so much more that I grab her by the ass, desperate to seek relief from the sweet torture.
That’s when I realize the lines are too blurred to read anymore, and Pris Greene tastes too good not to kiss her like she should be.
So I do.