Chapter 8 Hayden
Hayden
Despite being soaked through, the picnic was actually kind of nice.
The food was exceptionally good. Maybe even better than Aunt Dolly’s, not that I’d ever tell her that.
And I found no small amount of joy in wearing Diego’s cowboy hat.
It made me feel… I don’t know, sort of manly I guess, in a cute kind of way. Or something. Whatever.
Diego kept stealing glances at me, his eyes lingering on his hat perched on my head. Every time I caught him looking, he’d flash that annoying grin of his.
“What?” I finally asked, taking a bite of what had to be the best chicken salad sandwich I’d ever tasted.
“Nothin’,” he replied, leaning back on his elbows in the grass. “Just thinking that hat looks better on you than it ever did on me.”
I snorted, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through my chest at the compliment. “Bullshit. You probably sleep in this thing.”
“Sometimes,” he admitted with a laugh. “But seriously, you pull it off. Very... authentic cowboy chic.”
“Cowboy chic?” I raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Definitely.” His eyes traveled over me again, slower this time, taking in my still-damp clothes that clung to my skin. “Very definitely a compliment.”
I looked away, suddenly fascinated by a nearby tree. The intensity in his gaze made me feel both exposed and... wanted. It had been a while since anyone had looked at me like that… like I was something worth desiring.
“So,” I said, taking the last bite of my sandwich. “Do we need to get back? Don’t you have chores or something?”
Diego stretched languidly in the sun like a cat. He’d already scarfed down his food much faster than me. “Yeah,” he sighed, flopping back onto the grass. “I guess so.”
“But you know,” he added, sitting up and shielding his eyes from the sun, “I’m the boss. I set my own schedule.”
“Really?” I couldn’t hide the skepticism in my voice. “So, you’re telling me Mabel and Beau and whoever else runs this place would be totally fine with you blowing off your responsibilities to hang out with me?”
Diego’s laughter rang out across the creek, warm and genuine. “Okay, you got me there. Mabel would have my hide.” He pushed himself to his feet and held out his hand to me. “Come on, Freckles. Let’s head back before she sends out a search party.”
I hesitated before taking his hand, trying to ignore how warm and calloused it felt against mine. He pulled me up with ease, and for a moment we stood too close, our chests almost touching. I could smell the sun on his skin, mixed with that cologne that was driving me crazy.
“You know,” I said, taking a deliberate step back, “I’m starting to think this whole thing was a setup.”
“What do you mean?” His eyes widened with what looked like genuine confusion.
“The horse freaking out. Me falling in the creek.” I gestured to my still-damp clothes. “Seems awfully convenient that you got to play hero.”
Diego’s face broke into a grin so genuine it made my stomach flip. “You think I spooked Buttercup on purpose? That I’d risk you getting hurt just to, what, impress you?”
When he put it that way, it did sound ridiculous. “Maybe,” I muttered, adjusting his hat on my head. “You seem like the type.”
“The type to orchestrate elaborate schemes involving trained horses and perfectly timed fish?” He shook his head, still smiling. “That’s giving me way too much credit, Freckles. I’m not that clever.”
“Fine,” I conceded. “But I still don’t trust you.”
“Smart man,” he replied, and there was something in his voice that made me look up sharply. His smile had softened into something more thoughtful. “You shouldn’t trust cowboys. We’re notorious heartbreakers.”
I rolled my eyes to hide how his words had landed somewhere tender. “As if I’d let you anywhere near my heart.”
“Never said you would.” He turned away to start packing up our picnic, but not before I caught the flash of... something in his eyes. Hurt? Disappointment? “Let’s get these horses back. You can ride with me this time.”
“With you?” I frowned. “On the same horse?”
“Unless you want to try your luck with Buttercup again.” He nodded to where the white mare was grazing peacefully nearby, looking completely innocent. “But I figured you might want a break from solo riding after your impromptu swim.”
The thought of sitting pressed against Diego’s back, my arms around his waist, and my groin against his ass… it had my body reacting in ways I couldn’t control. But then again… that fucking horse was a menace.
“Fine,” I grumbled, trying to seem irritated about it to cover up my excitement. “But I want to ride in front.” At least then he couldn’t feel my dick through my jeans.
His eyes lit up like I’d just granted him his fondest wish. “Anything you say, Freckles,” he replied in a deep, sultry voice.
Fuck.
Diego must have sensed my discomfort because his grin widened as he helped me mount Ranger.
The horse was even bigger than Buttercup, and sitting in the front of the saddle made me acutely aware of how high up I was.
But that awareness quickly shifted to something else entirely when Diego swung up behind me, his chest pressing against my back, his arms coming around me to take the reins.
“Comfortable?” he asked, his breath warm against my ear.
I was many things in that moment–aroused, nervous, confused–but comfortable wasn’t one of them. “Fine,” I lied, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Good. Just relax and let me do the work.”
Christ. Did he have any idea how that sounded? From the low chuckle that rumbled through his chest, I suspected he did. I forced myself to sit up straighter, putting a few inches between us, but Diego just shifted closer, eliminating the space I’d created.
“You’re gonna fall off if you sit like that,” he murmured. “Just lean back against me.”
“I’m not going to fall off,” I protested, even as Ranger started moving and I instinctively pressed back against Diego’s solid warmth.
“There you go,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “See? Much better.”
It was better, in the worst possible way.
I could feel every breath he took, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my spine.
His thighs bracketed mine, and when he shifted to guide Ranger around a fallen branch, I bit back a groan at the friction.
My jeans were so tight now it was painful and there was a growing bulge against my back that, I suspected, was Diego’s cock. And it was… sizeable.
“You okay up there?” Diego asked, his voice rougher than before.
“Perfect,” I managed, though my voice came out strained. “Just enjoying the scenery.”
“Mm-hmm.” His arms tightened around me slightly as we navigated a small dip in the terrain. “Pretty view from up here.”
I had the distinct impression he wasn’t talking about the landscape.
The ride back seemed to take forever and no time at all.
Every step Ranger took sent little vibrations through both our bodies, and I found myself hyperaware of every point where Diego and I were touching.
By the time we reached the barn, I was wound tighter than a spring, my jeans stretched to capacity and my dick was damn near about to burst out of them.
“Easy dismount,” Diego said as we stopped. “Just swing your leg over and slide down.”
I did as instructed, grateful to put some distance between us. My legs felt shaky as my feet hit the ground, though whether from the horse riding or Diego’s proximity, I couldn’t say.
“Not bad for your first time,” Diego said, swinging down with practiced ease. “You’re a natural.”
I was about to make some sarcastic comment when I noticed we had an audience. Mabel stood near the barn entrance, her arms crossed and a knowing smile on her face. Beside her was an older man I recognized as Frank from the Christmas Festival.
“Dolly’s up on the porch waitin’ for you, honey,” Mabel said, jabbing her thumb over her left shoulder. “And Diego, I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”
Diego was suddenly very nervous, his proud stature shrinking a bit as he turned to Mabel and ran his hand through his hair. “Uh... Why’s that, Miss Mabel?”
“Like you don’t know you skipped out on helping clean up the landscaping today.” She gave a glance my way, then went back to Diego. “You can’t just skip work for a pretty face.”
Frank gestured for me to follow him. “C’mon son. This ain’t gonna be pretty.”
As soon as we were out of earshot, I heard Mabel’s voice raise and I almost felt bad for Diego.
“Don’t worry,” Frank said, sensing my discomfort. “She’s all bark and no bite where Diego is concerned. She loves that boy like he was her own.”
“Hopefully I didn’t get him into too much trouble,” I replied, though I wasn’t sure why I cared.
“He got into it all by himself. He’ll be fine.”
As we came around the corner of the barn, the farmhouse came into view.
And, sure as hell, there was Aunt Dolly sitting on the back porch in a rocking chair looking like she wasn’t the busiest woman in town.
Frank gestured toward her, tipped his hat to me in farewell, and headed back to the barn.
And I, knowing there was no avoiding it, trudged to the farmhouse and up the steps of the porch.
“Hey Aunt Dolly,” I muttered.
“Hey there yourself,” she grinned. “Where’d you get the hat, sugar?” Aunt Dolly asked, taking a sip from what looked like iced lemonade. “It looks good on you.”
“It’s Diego’s,” I replied, plopping down in the rocking chair next to her. My jeans were still damp from the creek. “He gave it to me.”
She stopped rocking, her eyes fixed on me and a smile spreading over her face. “Well, I’ll be,” she said slowly.
“You’ll be what?” I asked, furrowing my brows. “I don’t know what all these southern-isms mean.”
“Oh nothin’,” she replied and just kept on grinning.
“Aunt Dolly… what?”
“I guess I just didn’t know you and that cowboy were so sweet on each other.” She gave a little shrug. “That’s all.”
“I’m not sweet on him about anything,” I barked back, shocked she would even suggest such a thing. “He’s a cantankerous asshole with too much confidence and less than two brain cells to rub together.”
“But you’re wearin’ his hat.”
“And?” I was getting tired of this. “What the hell does that have to do with anything? It’s a hat. Who cares?”
“Sometimes I forget you wasn’t raised around here,” she sighed, still smiling despite my irritation. “You don’t know what wearin’ a cowboy’s hat means.”
A long moment of silence passed between us. Something was going on. Something I didn’t understand.
“So…” I said, almost terrified to know the answer. “What does it mean?”
Aunt Dolly’s eyes widened, like she couldn’t believe I’d asked such an obvious question. She leaned forward in her rocking chair, lowering her voice as if sharing a state secret.
“Sugar, a cowboy’s hat is his most prized possession. It’s part of who he is.” She gestured to the cream-colored hat still perched on my head. “And Diego Mendez? That boy loves that hat more than most folks love their children.”
“So?” I shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of the weight of the hat on my head.
“So,” she continued, drawing out the word, “when a cowboy gives you his hat, it means something. It means he’s very sweet on you. It’s practically a declaration.”
I felt my face flush hot. “That’s ridiculous. He just gave it to me because I fell in the creek.”
“Uh-huh.” Aunt Dolly’s smile was knowing in a way that made me want to crawl under the porch. “And I’m the Queen of England.”
“No, seriously,” I insisted, though my voice sounded weak even to my own ears. “It was just a... a pity hat. Because I was wet.”
“Honey, in all my years, I’ve never seen Diego Mendez let anyone wear that hat. Not once.” She took another sip of her lemonade, watching me over the rim of her glass. “And Frank says he’s had it since he was eighteen. Practically sleeps with the darn thing.”
My stomach did a weird flip. “That’s... that’s not what happened. He’s not... we’re not...”
“It’s alright if you like him back,” she said gently. “He’s a good man. Rough around the edges, sure, but he’s got a heart bigger than Texas.”
“I don’t like him!” The denial came out too forcefully, making Dolly’s eyebrows shoot up. “He’s annoying and cocky and he thinks he’s God’s gift to the earth itself.”
“Well, isn’t he?” She winked, and I nearly choked.
“Aunt Dolly!”
She cackled, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “I’m just sayin’, that boy’s been alone too long. And so have you, from what I gather.”
I groaned, slumping deeper into the rocking chair. “Please stop. I’m begging you.”
“Fine, fine.” She waved a hand dismissively. “But you keep that hat and don’t let anythin’ happen to it. Just see what happens. He might surprise you.”
Before I could argue further, I caught sight of Diego walking away from the barn out toward a group of ranch hands working at the guest cabins.
His hair was still damp from the creek, his shirt clinging to his chest in a way that made my mouth go dry.
He moved with that easy confidence that both irritated and attracted me, his eyes finding mine immediately.
He lifted his hand, giving a little wave and a smile. My heart skipped a beat.
That handsome asshole had tricked me again.