Chapter 14 How Soon Can You Be Here?
How soon can you be here?
Oliver
After years of coming here every spring, and the week being mostly over, the unknown man standing near the stall of my horses sticks out like a sore thumb.
At first I don’t think much of it, except when I see him step up onto the fence and reach into the paddock.
“Can I help you?” I call out loudly from the end of the aisle between the pens as my boots beat against the dirt in his direction.
His suit is out of place here with the sweat and grime of days of hard work.
“Oh, sorry. I’m an old friend of the family.” His smile is practiced over too-white teeth.
“Of mine? I don’t think so.” I squint at him, trying like hell to place his face.
Straight nose, defined jaw, and a crisp collar of a pressed shirt under a stark new cowboy hat.
His pale brows knot. “I apologize, I must have the wrong animals. The chart said—”
My arms cross as I stare him down.
The chart likely still has Sophia McCullough’s name on it.
“Everything got switched around. Too many critters, not enough slots.” I pull my lips into a thin smile. “Even then, ya better ask before messing with people’s animals. We put a lot of work into them. It’s a shootin’ offense around here.”
His eyes widen and his finger raises to tip the edge of his brim, making the sun glint off his ruby ring. “No harm meant, friend. I was just going to wish them well.”
“I’ll be sure to pass it on. You are?” I shift just enough to block his easy escape route.
“It doesn’t matter.” He side steps, brushing by to leave a waft of his fruity cologne. “Have a good day.” His words are loaded with fake pleasantry before he brisks away.
Huh.
Weird.
Propping my heel on the bottom rail of the gate, I pull out my phone and send a quick text to Brent to tell him what happened.
Footsteps make me glance up.
Oh, it’s the other gal that’s been working with the McCullough girl.
Rachel, I think her name is?
“Hi, Oliver.” Her grin is wide. “Can you believe this week is already over?”
My shoulder has felt every second of it, slinging rope all the time.
I’m ready for a break.
And to get back to work. Denny and Mike said they’re about done with the demolition on the Black Gulch place.
It’s ready to get a solid materials quote.
“Every year it goes by faster,” I grunt.
Then I look down.
RacingQueen: I’m in Oregon. How far is that from you?
Fire boils through my veins.
“Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Rachel cuts the strings on one of the bales of special hay to feed to the mare.
“I’m fine.” I don’t look up, but wander away from her and the horses, fixated on my screen.
Oregon.
RQ’s here.
The last few days have been hell of slowly closing in on where she’s at.
TheBigO: The whole state is only a few hours across. I can be there.
RacingQueen: Did you finish the last book I sent?
TheBigO: I did last night.
RacingQueen: What did you think? Kinda fun that he wore a mask?
TheBigO: I’ll wear whatever you want me to if I get to finally touch you.
It’s crazy how I’ve gone from wanting to keep her at arm’s length, to craving every word she sends my way.
She’s crawled under my skin in all the best ways.
I think we both need to find out if this is real.
Is she finally ready?
RacingQueen: I need it too. How soon can you get to Pendleton?
My stomach tightens.
No fucking way.
TheBigO: Fast.
RacingQueen: Okay, I’ll give you directions in a few hours, once my friend leaves.
My cock swells against my zipper.
Again.
She has me permanently hard. Between the books she has me reading and the secrets she’s shared, I’m like Pavlov’s dog getting horny every time my text notification goes off.
RacingQueen: I want this to be wild. So even if it never happens again, we have tonight.
TheBigO: How wild?
RacingQueen: Remember the pirate book?
Shit, I almost run into one of the concrete barricades in the trailer parking lot, I’m so glued to her messages.
I need a damn shower.
TheBigO: How could I forget?
RacingQueen: I’m going to go against every girl code and put all of my trust in you…don’t take no for an answer.
Jesus.
TheBigO: What if you really mean it?
What if she takes one look at me and decides she doesn’t want it?
Slamming the door shut to my camper, I’m happy to see I’m alone.
My boots fly into the corner and my jeans get shoved to the floor on my way to the bathroom.
RacingQueen: I’ll say ‘Captain Hook’.
She’s killing me.
I’m still chuckling as I step under the warm water.
But the reality starts to seep in under the scalding deluge.
I’m going to see her for the first time.
Tonight.
The woman who wants to skip dating.
Who wants to be taken. Owned.
And the longer I think about it, the less I’m worried that she’ll send me away.
I’m more terrified that I’ll never want to let her go.
By the time I’m cleaned up, beard trimmed, and fresh clothes on, my phone makes the noise I’ve been waiting for.
RacingQueen: Do you know the fairgrounds on the north side of town?
Wait.
She’s here here?
TheBigO: Yes.
RacingQueen: In through the main gate, second row. I’m third in line.
My hands start to shake as she gives the final description of her trailer.
She’s been only a hundred yards from me this whole time?
Have I passed her already? How many times could I have seen her and never known it?
One of the few things I haven’t shared with her was that I owned horses. I thought it might sway her.
I guess I don’t need to worry. If she’s been here at the training grounds, she must like them?
Fuck me.
Even more perfect.
RacingQueen: Biggie? Wear a mask. We can always reveal identities later. I think it’d be hot as shit if we kept that secret for just a little while. It won’t be the same once I know your name.
My path is illuminated by the lights spilling from the various campers as I creep through the shadows.
I feel like I’m doing something wrong. My damn pulse is a rapid fire pounding in my ears, drowning out the crunch of gravel beneath my boots.
There’s no mistaking her trailer from her descriptions.
For some reason, it looks familiar.
Probably because I’ve seen it at a distance for the last week.
My hands shake as I pull out my phone.
TheBigO: I’m here.
RacingQueen: Come take what’s yours. No matter what.
The first spiral of doubt floods into me while I pull out my bandana.
No.
Fuck that.
She asked for this.
I’m going to give her a night she’ll remember.
Tugging the thin fabric up over my nose, I take a deep breath, then open the door.