35. Cole
COLE
As I pull up outside the bunkhouse, I’m fully aware I’m grinning like an asshole, but I can’t help it.
Hopping out of Bailey’s Jeep that I’m gonna need to return at some point today, I turn, stopping when I see the new guy, Jagger, hopping out of his old Chevy.
He’s dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, looking like he’s been up all night.
It’s not surprising. The turnout is known to attract the buckle bunnies, and he wouldn’t be the first Rattlesnake Ranch cowboy to fall victim to one of the eager Summer gals.
“Big night?” I ask, tamping down my smirk.
Jagger startles, like he hadn’t noticed me. Removing his ball cap, he rakes his fingers through his mussed hair and looks down at the ground. “Uh, yeah.” He shrugs one of his shoulders. “Somethin’ like that.”
When I know that’s the most I’m gonna get out of him, I lead the way into the bunkhouse, the place a flurry with its typical early morning chaos.
“Goddammit, Wyatt!” someone shouts. I think it’s Levi. “Way to use all the hot water, asshole.”
“Had to wash my hair,” Wyatt chimes back from where he’s sitting at the kitchen table, chowing down a bowl of cereal.
“Well, well, well,” Brady teases from his spot in front of the fridge, looking over his shoulder at me and Jagger, his smirk smug. “Looky what the barn cat dragged in.”
I roll my eyes. Jagger bypasses me, ignoring Brady completely and, with his head down, continues through the double doors to the bunkroom.
“How’s Clara and the kids?”
I turn, finding Webber walk out of the shitter, newspaper folded under his arm.
I clear my throat, my memories going to Clara and what we did last night. I force them away because now is not the time for a twitching dick. “They’re okay. Shaken up. The little guy’s got a busted arm, but all in all they’re safe.”
“Good to hear.” Webber nods, walking past me to where his coffee mug is waiting for him.
My phone shudders from my pocket and I pull it out, my brows tugging together to see a text message from Clara. Naturally, panic flares in my chest.
Clara: I miss you already.
I release the breath I’d been holding, stifling my smile so these assholes don’t give me shit. Rubbing at the back of my neck, I walk through to the bunk room, tapping out a reply.
Me: Thought I told you to go back to sleep, darlin’.
Clara: I tried, but I couldn’t stop thinking about last night.
Unease swirls in my gut because my first thought is that she’s regretting it. Maybe I pushed her too far, too quickly. I take a seat on the edge of my bed, resting my elbows on my knees as I stare down at the screen, considering my reply.
Me: Are you okay?
Clara: No.
Fuck.
I drag a hand over my face, heaving a sigh, but then my phone shudders again.
Clara: I really wanna do it again.
Wait. What? I square my shoulders, reading her reply a few more times to make sure I didn’t misread it, right as another pops up.
Clara: I wish you were still here…
Snapping my head up, I check for anyone around, but it’s just Jagger, his back to me as he grabs a set of clean clothes from his closet.
Me: Oh yeah?
I bite my lip, awaiting her reply.
Clara: Yeah. I’m aching, Cole.
Double fuck. I drop my chin, bowing my head and closing my eyes on a slow, steading breath.
Me: Baby, you fixin to get me fired because I swear to god I’m about five seconds from calling off work, hoppin in my truck and comin straight back there to give you exactly what you need.
Clara: I think I hear Billie up. Raincheck?
Me: You bet your sweet ass.
The day drags. Monotonous and uneventful.
It’s always the same the day after the turnout, with everyone hungover or still half-drunk until at least noon.
Brady, Wyatt, Levi, Jagger and I drove the cattle down to water.
Brady and Wyatt went swimming, frolicking in the dam like a couple o’ kids.
Levi snoozed beneath a shade tree, and Jagger sat on guard, scanning the immediate area around us like he was looking out for the enemy.
I still don’t have a read on that guy, but he seems nice enough.
By the time we make it back, the sun’s starting to set and as I walk up from the stables, I see Darcy and Bailey sitting in the Adirondack chairs set up around the fire pit outside the bunkhouse like they somehow belong here.
“Y’all work here now?” I sass as I approach.
“Thanks for returnin’ my car, asshole,” Bailey crows, only half-joking. “Darcy had to drive my ass out here to come get it my damn self.”
“Sorry, Bailey Bay. I was about to bring it back to ya.” I lean down giving her a hug, then Darcy.
“Get your filthy paws off my girl, Dawson.” Wyatt shoves me aside, easing himself down to sit on his girlfriend’s lap, even though he’s at least twice her size.
“Was everything okay, yesterday?” Darcy asks, genuinely concerned.
“Yeah.” I nod, tucking my hands in my pockets and rocking on my boots, looking out over the empty pens to the horizon. I realize my mistake a second too late when Bailey sucks in a gasp.
I grit my teeth, anticipating the barrage of questions as she jumps out of her chair like her ass is on fire.
“You stayed the night with her!” she whisper-yells, getting all up in my face, eyes wide and full of that unhinged kind of excitement.
I roll my eyes, adding a shrug my shoulders, choosing not to give her anything.
“He sure did.” Wyatt scoffs. “Dragged his sorry, disheveled ass into the bunkhouse this mornin’ five minutes before chores.”
I shoot him a glower that he ignores.
Bailey is smug as fuck and positively beaming, and probably picking out imaginary China patterns on my behalf if I know her like I think I do. But thankfully, before anyone can try to gouge any more out of me, my phone rings.
“What’s up, Rick?” I answer, noting the call ID as Rick’s Garage.
“Howdy, Cole,” Rick greets in his typical jovial tone. “Hyundai’s all done and ready to go—”
I turn away from my friends so I can hear him a little better over Brady’s booming voice as he joins the group, talking about some shit.
“You change out all the tires like I asked?”
“Sure did,” Rick says. “But it wasn’t the heat of the road that caused the blow out,” he continues. “Looked like a faulty stem on the back right.”
My brows knit together at that piece of information. “A faulty stem?”
“Yeah.” Rick grunts. “Wreck coulda been a helluva lot worse than what it was had she been drivin’ full speed.”
I sigh, shaking my head, trying not to imagine the worst. Clara drove that car all the way from West fucking Virginia with a faulty stem? They’re lucky they even made it to Texas. My gut roils at the thought. “Okay, thanks Rick. I’ll head down soon to collect it.”
I pull into the driveway of the house, grinning at the sight in front of me.
Tom and Billie are next to each other, lazin’ on a blanket in the grass.
Tom’s reading and Billie’s playing with Curly and a couple of Barbie dolls.
Clara’s perched on our favorite porch step, a mug of something clasped in her hands.
The way my heart skitters in my chest would’ve once been a warning, but now, it serves as a reminder: I’m not just in love with Clara, I love those two kids, too.
“Mommy, it’s our car!” Billie squeals, jumping up from the blanket and running to me the second I hop out.
I grunt at the force of her small yet mighty body launching at me, heaving her up into my arms. “Howdy, Miss Billie.”
“You brought our car back.” She beams at me.
“I sure did.”
Clara stands then, and I catch the look in her eyes as her gaze flits from me to the car and back again. I knew she’d be pissed. But too bad. This was a non-negotiable.
I let Billie down and she goes back to her brother whose proffered fist I bump with my own on my way past, meeting Clara by the porch.
“Ma’am,” I sass, keeping my voice low. Leaning in, I press a kiss to her cheek, pulling back to gauge her. Yeah, she’s pissed, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips.
“How much?” Clara sighs, cocking her head in that no-bullshit way she’s mastered.
I hold my hands up in defense. “I got a good deal.”
She deadpans. “I didn’t ask that.”
Placing my hands on her waist, I pull her closer. She lifts her chin, meeting my eyes and I offer her a steady look. “Just say thank you, baby,” I whisper.
Lips pursed, Clara rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Fine. Thank you.”
I flash her my attempt at an innocent grin. “You’re welcome.”
“But I’m paying you back,” she adds quickly.
I lean in again, ghosting her lips with mine. “You can do whatever you want, darlin’.”
“You staying for dinner?” She arches a brow.
Teasingly, I pepper kisses across her cheek, stopping by her ear, to whisper, “And dessert?”
She shivers from my words, from the way my breath skates across the shell of her ear, and fuck I love that I can affect her so easily. My cock twitches in my jeans with the need for round two with the love of my life.