45. Clara
CLARA
“You doin’ okay, sweet girl?”
I look up from my plate of untouched pie, my eyes landing on Mama Joy across the picnic table, looking at me like she’s genuinely worried.
“Takes a lot for someone to pass up on Mama Joy’s peach pie, just sayin’.” She glances pointedly at my plate, arching a brow.
Billie and Tommy are over playing on the old tire swing hanging from the branches of the big tree, their laughter floating through the quiet, warm, dusk air.
Cole’s been gone all day, like he has most days this week.
He’s been like a ghost since our talk on the porch after the rodeo, coming in late at night and leaving before sunrise.
I feel bad, not for myself, but for the kids because I can tell they miss him, and I can tell they know by the low-hanging tension in the air that something is wrong.
I’m still trying to process everything. Cole continuing to ride, despite being told not to.
That his life hangs in the balance every time he gets up on the back of one of those bulls.
That he looked me dead in my eyes and told me bull riding’s all he’s got.
And I do understand. I get it. I can only imagine how scary it is facing the real threat of losing everything you’ve spent your life working toward, having your dream so close you can almost touch it, only to be ripped away from you before you can get a good grasp of it.
But the truth is, I’m scared. Cole’s the first man I’ve ever been able to see a real future with.
I know it’s still new, but I love him. The thought of losing him makes me feel hollow inside.
But the thought of him losing the only thing he’s ever known, the thing he’s worked hardest for, that makes me feel just as empty.
I don’t want to give him an ultimatum, but I’m so, so scared.
“Somethin’ happen between you and Cole?” Mama Joy asks after a few silent beats.
I lick my lips, considering my response. I can’t tell her. Which I hate because I just know Mama Joy would give the most solid advice. I’d feel better after telling her, but I can’t.
“Or is it… the other one?” she presses, narrowing one eye.
At the mention of Cain, an unwelcomed shiver runs through me, and all I can think about is the look in his eyes—or, the eyes of who I thought was Cain but might’ve just been my imagination playing nasty tricks on me—when he’d looked at me across the fairground.
Threat, and warning, combined with a teasing menace.
I blink away thoughts of Cain, forcing a smile. “No.”
Mama Joy looks at me like she doesn’t believe me, and I don’t blame her. I’m a terrible liar.
“It’s just—” I stop myself, unable to find the words I need not to give away more than I should. “Can I ask you something?”
Mama Joy smiles softly, reaching across the table and touching my arm with her hand. “Always honey. That’s what I’m here for.”
“If someone you loved was… not willing to give up the one thing they love, the one thing that scares you more than… anything, the one thing that… that could take them away from you forever… w-what would you do?” I roll my lips together, watching her process my words with careful consideration, a flash of sadness flaring in her eyes, despite her smile.
“Honey,” Mama Joy says after a minute, clearing the obvious emotion from her throat and clasping my hand between both of hers.
“You see this place?” She makes a point of looking around, not just at this big house, but the land around it that seems to stretch off as far as the horizon that’s illuminated by the final moments of the setting sun.
“This place has been in my husband’s family for generations, and I hate it.”
My eyes widen at that.
“Always have. I hated this place, I hated his mama. His daddy was okay, but oof, his mama?” She shakes her head.
“What a piece of work,” she adds with a low chuckle, her smile turning faraway at the memory.
“And I knew that marryin’ Phil, meant marryin’ this place and everything I hated that came with it. But oh, how I loved that man.”
I can’t help but grin at the way she talks about her late husband with such adoration.
“I knew eventually this place would kill my husband.” Mama Joy’s smile turns sad again as she looks down at our hands.
“But I also knew, no matter how much I begged or pleaded him to, he’d never give it up.
Didn’t mean he loved it more than me, it was just always a part of him.
This place was in his veins the day he was born. ”
“I’m sorry, Mama Joy,” I say softly.
She looks up then, regarding me for a long beat, her glassy eyes reflecting the open flame of the mosquito candle flickering in the lanterns dotted about the yard.
“This about a certain someone who willingly jumps on the back of a pissed-off bull most weekends?” she asks, cocking her head to the side, smile knowing.
I shift in my seat a little, averting my gaze so she can’t possibly see the lie when I nod. “Yeah.” I meet her eyes again. “It… scares me.” It’s a half-truth, at least.
She nods in understanding. “Baby, these Texas boys are built stronger than ox, but they’re about as stubborn as one too.
The only advice I can give you is if you truly do love that man, and I think you do,” she says, narrowing one eye and looking at me a little closer.
“Then you need to know that loving him comes with an almost certain heartache that might sometimes feel like it’s about to kill ya.
But what a shame missin’ on that kinda all-consumin’ love. ”
I look between Mama Joy’s eyes, finding something in them that deep down, I’ve known all along.
She’s right. I love Cole. And I know he loves me.
Us. But I can’t expect him to give up his dream.
He knows the risks. And if that’s something he’s willing to gamble on, then all I can do is support him, and be there for him no matter what.
Glancing over to where Tommy’s pushing his little sister on the swing, Billie throwing her head back with the kinda glee most people can only ever dream of, I smile, despite my tears.
Because if I’m going to choose to support Cole, even knowing how badly things might end, then I need to remember that my choice ultimately affects my children, and that’s a risk I’m not sure I’m willing to accept, no matter how much I love that man.
I wake from the feel of a rough hand skating up over the curve of my hip, following the dip of my waist, gentle and tentative, yet determined as it wraps around me, warmth pressing into me from behind, his spicy, freshly showered scent engulfing me like a cloud.
The room is dark, silent, the dull light of the crescent moon shining through the window, creating nothing but shadows as I scan the space around me.
“What time is it?” I rasp, my throat thick with sleep.
“Shhh, it’s late,” Cole whispers, lips grazing my ear. “Go back to sleep.”
I exhale slowly, knowing I probably should go back to sleep. But I miss him. And right now, even with him right here, so close, practically enveloping me, I miss him the most, and I’ve suddenly never been more awake.
Reaching behind me, I find the back of his head, fingers trailing through his thick hair, and angling my face just enough, I find his lips.
His arm around me tightens, and when I slide my tongue into his mouth, his hips shift, and I feel his length press into me from behind, thick and hard.
The fact that he wants me only causes me to deepen the kiss, my nails dragging over his scalp and eliciting a groan from deep in the back of his throat.
Cole’s hand moves from my belly, dipping under the waist of my sleep shorts, and I whimper when I feel his finger slip between my folds, rubbing my suddenly aching clit.
Gripping his wrist, I grind myself against his fingers, needing more.
His thumb takes over, two fingers sinking inside of me and I tear my lips from his, sucking in a harsh breath.
Our kiss falters, and we’re nothing but open mouths sharing panting breaths as I chase the high I didn’t know I needed right now.
“That’s it, baby,” Cole gruffs, his voice low and gravelly.
“Oh, yes,” I whimper, my breaths and whispered words tremulous as my orgasm barrels toward me already. “Don’t stop.”
“Fuckin’ never.” Cole closes his mouth over mine, swallowing my sounds as he gives me what I need, his fingers rubbing up against that magical spot, deep, deep inside.
I moan against his tongue, the coil at the base of my spine tightening right as the pressure in the pit of my belly releases, a wave of pleasure roiling through me from the inside out.
I come hard, every part of my body quaking while he works me through it until I’m too sensitive and my thighs clamp together, my hand around his wrist holding him still.
“Fuck, Clara,” Cole grits out, pulling back a touch to look at me, his eyes blazing through the darkness. “You came hard, baby.”
“Yeah,” I say on a soft moan, feeling my release gush out of me as he removes his fingers, my body shuddering in response. “I m-missed you.”
“Aw, baby,” Cole rasps on a sigh. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m here now.”
“I need you. Please.”
“Fuck,” he mutters, thumb looping into the waist of my shorts and shoving them down roughly. “Take off your top.”
I do as he asks, shimmying out of my tank top until I’m completely naked, but when I try to roll over, he stops me, keeping me on my side, his chest hard up against my back, lips latching onto the sensitive skin when my neck meets my shoulder.
Trailing his calloused hand down over my hip, he links behind my knee and moves my thigh so that he’s nestled between my legs, and when I feel the hard length of his cock, feel the contradicting cool metal of his ring graze my center, I suck in a gasp, my mouth falling open when he pushes inside of me, inch by glorious inch until he’s buried to the hilt.
“Shit.” Cole groans, burying his face into my neck and releasing a heavy breath. “I fuckin’ missed you, baby.”