2. Two
Two
Rhett
Wyatt didn’t notice her, neither did Lachlan. They were too busy talking about God knows what. I was involved in their conversation, but when she walked in the door, she was all I saw. Her brown hair was straight, falling over her shoulders as she attempted to tuck it behind her ears. She wore jean shorts with a tank top, showing off her flawless skin, but the one thing I couldn’t see was her eyes. And I was itching to see them.
I had never seen anyone like her come into The Steel. The bar and grill was mainly frequented by locals. The small town of Alpine Ridge wasn’t where tourists gathered, we weren’t even on the map, yet here she was. She ordered a simple drink—a rum and coke maybe—and then sat in silence as she drank it. Her gaze would wander around the room, falling on me every now and then, but was seemingly oblivious to my attention on her. When I finally got the courage to approach her I wasn’t expecting her to retaliate, but to be honest, that made it more fun.
Her little guessing game made me laugh, and the fact that the only thing she got wrong was my profession made me want to stick around even more. Of course, she would have guessed that I was a bull rider. But bull riding wasn’t my world, I was a tie-down roper. I’d rather feel the lasso and jump off the horse—that’s where the excitement was for me.
I watched as Kyla drank her drink, slowly, her chocolate eyes on me the whole time. They sparkled, just like I hoped they would, as they danced around the room. The corner of my lip twitched, waiting for her to break the silence. She rolled her lips before she turned and narrowed her eyes in my direction. Finally, she swallowed and drew a sharp breath.
“Your nephew’s name is really Stetson?” she asked, her voice heavy from the alcohol.
Giving her a single nod, I caught her gaze. “Yup.” I popped the P . “After his mom’s favorite hat,” I joked, leaning into her. My sister had her fair share of Stetson hats, but I knew that wasn’t the reason why she named her son that .
But playing with Kyla was becoming fun.
Kyla lowered her eyebrows at me. “And a white truck?”
“A Ford F-250, like you guessed.”
“Leather seats?” Her face tilted, her fingers drumming on the bar top.
“Nah, but they are heated.”
“Oh.” She let go of a smirk as her eyebrows rose. “That’s a game changer.” She turned her body, giving me a slight eye roll, her voice heaving with sarcasm as she straightened her back—all the warmth from her body that was just mere inches from me fading away.
“It is. Winters up here can get rough.”
“Oh, do they? I’m from Arizona, we don’t get much winter down there.” She raised her glass to her lips, eyeing me from the corner of her eyes. The chocolate brown gleaming with . . . with . . . something. I couldn’t read her as easily as she could read me, but there was something there.
Mimicking her, I lifted my mug, smelling the alcohol before tasting it. “I would imagine not. I’ve been there a few times in the circuit. No offense but it’s not my favorite place to ride.”
Kyla snorted, lowering her drink as she formed a soft smile and licked her bottom lip. If she kept doing that, I’d be begging to kiss her.
“I don’t blame you at all. Arizona is terrible, but . . .” She shrugged her shoulders. “Born and raised in Phoenix.”
“So, tell me, what brings you to Idaho?”
I propped my foot up on the rest to get more comfortable on the stool. With one hand resting on my knee, the other on my mug, my body was open to her. I wanted to show her she could open up to me, have fun and talk to me, even if it was just for her time in the bar. Relax, just a little.
“Just . . .” she began, “a change of scenery.” Her voice and the way she lifted her eyes to me told me there was more to the story. I raised an eyebrow, curious to learn more. There had to be so much more to this woman.
“Arizona to Idaho is a bit of a change.”
“Idaho isn’t the end of the line for me, Washington is.”
“What’s in Washington?” I prodded.
“A job.” Kyla raised her drink to her lips, pressing them to the glass softly. She sipped her drink, her gaze meeting mine with intensity. Her shoulders tensed as she lowered the glass, her lungs filling with a deep breath.
Her body language was saying more than she knew. I swallowed, my eyebrows twitching as I looked at her. I wanted to begin to peel away those layers. “Just a job?”
She raised an eyebrow and looked over at me, placing her glass back on the bar top. “Yes, Rhett—” she enunciated my name, “—just a job. Like I said, I’m not looking for anything—even in Washington.”
“Hey, like I said, that’s not my intention at all. I just wanted to—”
“Buy me a round.” She smiled, a smile that lit up the room. “So, tell me, if you’re not riding bulls, what do you do in the rodeo?”
“Tie-down,” I answered simply.
At the change of subject, her attention anchored to me. With her voice steady, she said, “I wish I could lie and say I know what that is but . . .”
“Tie-down roping. I lasso the calf, jump off the horse, and tie it down.”
“Oh!” She bounced up, her hair flipping over her shoulders. “Is that where you tie up the legs and then wave your arms in the air once you’re done?” She mimicked the motion I do so well.
Lowering my chin I laughed. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
How can I convince this girl to stay longer than one round?
“Has a calf ever gotten away from you?” she asked, her voice still full of excitement as her hands lowered.
“Yes.” I nodded, meeting her gaze.
She leaned in slightly. “How are you scored?” she asked.
“It’s a timed event. No scores. Fastest time wins,” I answered, leaning in to meet her.
“What’s your best time?” She raised her chin, her body tilting even closer to mine. I could touch her knee if she’d let me.
“7.6,” I answered, proud of my time.
“Minutes?” her voice raised as her back straightened.
I grunted a laugh. “Seconds.”
“Ha, oh, that sounds better. Harder?” Kyla relaxed again as she slumped her shoulders. Raising her hand, she tucked her hair behind her ear. “What’s the world record?”
“6.3,” I held her gaze.
“And you can’t do 6.3 seconds?” Her arm fell on the bar top, her hand hanging off the edge, close to my knee. If her fingers flexed, she would graze my thigh just light enough to tease.
Was she teasing? Taunting? Flirting? Or did she really want to know?
“It’s a goal. I’ve gotten it during practice once, but never in an event,” I admitted.
“Do you get to choose your horse?”
“Yes, I ride my own horse. What’s with the questions? Is this a quiz? Are you a secret rodeo fan and you know everything, but you’re seeing how much I know?” I smiled at her.
“I’ve never been to a rodeo. ”
“Never been to a rodeo? There are tons in Phoenix, and you’ve never been?” I leaned closer to her, wanting to catch her scent, but she slowly moved away.
Scrunching her nose she shook her head. “No, I’m more of a city girl. David and I lived in the city. No ranches or horses near me. So . . .”
“Change of scenery,” I parroted from earlier. “Who’s David?”
The question slipped from my lips. I didn’t mean to pry, but I wanted to know who he was and if he was waiting for her somewhere.
She let out a long breath. “My ex.”
Her . . . ex. He wasn’t waiting. She had left, she wanted that change. I let out a low, heavy breath; one that I knew she caught. Our eyes met—contact so deep I could basically read her mind. She was nervous, she was excited. She had no idea what she was doing. Her eyes lit up as she inhaled, her exhale shaky as she broke eye contact and her eyes landed on something behind me. Our gazes locked again as her back straightened in her seat, a single eyebrow cocking.
“Wanna play darts?” Kyla asked, the same shake that was in her breath now controlling her voice.
I smiled at her and raised my brow. “You any good?”
Biting her lower lip, sending my gaze to her mouth again, she stood. “Guess you’ll find out.”
I didn’t know what the night would bring, but I did know I was going to kiss her before she left this town.
“How are you this good at pool?” I asked, watching as Kyla sank three balls in a row.
After she had lost two games of darts, she suggested we move to the pool table. If her pool strategy was anything like her dart game, I knew she didn’t stand a chance against my skill. But she jumped up, grabbed her cue while I stacked up the balls then walked around the table, positioned herself perfectly, moving her hips in one fluid motion before she struck and broke, sinking two balls straight away.
She gave a small bow holding the cue out. “College.” She aimed again, missing the shot.
“College?” I swung my cue around, noticing the table. She may have just landed two balls in a row, but she also lined me up for the perfect shot. “Spent your weekend in a bar I take it?” Bending over the table, I gave Kyla one last glance before sinking the ball.
“Not at all.” Her smile grew with the playfulness in her voice. “My roommates had a pool table, one that folded up and slid under the couch. We pulled it out a lot and may or may not have had some parties.”
Even though she was beating me, we were taking our time, not worrying about lining up the shots, not caring about points—but she was teasing. In every way possible.
She would shimmy in front of me, her hips gently touching me as she passed. If she passed from behind, her palm would trail my shoulder blades, and after the first few shots she grabbed my hat off my head and placed it on top of hers. Raising an eyebrow, I watched every move she made.
I watched as she bent over the table to take her shot, her focus on the table. She seemed unphased by what she was doing to me. I rested my cue on the ground and leaned on it, studying her body as she moved. She swayed her hips and lightly jerked her elbow to hit the cue ball off to the right, taking out the yellow stripe like it wasn’t even there. She rose and used her hand to move her hair from her shoulder, giving me the sexiest smirk I had ever seen—winking at me. I told myself it was because she wore my hat with more confidence than I did even though it was two sizes too big, but the wink was just enough to send me over the edge. I needed to kiss her. Kyla was absolutely mesmerizing.
“Hey, Cowboy.” Her voice brought me back to the table. “I missed, it’s your shot.”
She came to stand next to me, raising her chin to look up into my gaze. My hat tilted back, yeah , it was way too big for her dainty frame. Her teeth racked across her bottom lip, practically begging me to kiss her.
“Come on, take your shot,” she pressed, her lips forming a sly grin.
I exhaled and stepped away from her, not wanting to take things too far, too fast. It had only been a few hours and I wasn’t planning on this going outside of the bar. In my mind it was a fun date, going to end with a kiss (or two, or three) and maybe a heated moment in the hall, but then she would be in her car and on her way to Washington. And I would be back on the road—gone for almost two weeks in the circuit. This woman would stay in my head for a long time, that much I knew. But nothing more could come of it.
I lined up the cue and tried with all my willpower to concentrate on the ball while Kyla stood in my line of sight. Even blurry in the background I could see her hips move as she shifted on her feet. Any concentration I had was thrown out the window. I narrowed my eyes and inhaled.
“Hey, Rhett!”
I fumbled and missed the shot as Wyatt came up next to me, his voice louder than normal after a few beers. I stood up straight and glared at my little brother. “Yes, Wyatt, do you need something?” I bit.
He laughed, hearing the frustration in my voice. Without hesitation he leaned his elbow on my shoulder and smiled. Wyatt was a rodeo announcer. He had that charisma, that voice you needed to tell the world what was happening on the dirt. But right now, I didn’t want to hear it.
“Are you winning?” he chuckled.
“No, he’s not. Hey, Wyatt.” Kyla gleamed across the table.
“Well in that case, can I play the next game? I happen to be fabulous at pool.” He waved his hand around, almost smacking me in the face a few times. He turned his head and gave me a grin. He caught my glare, but decided it wasn’t worth it.
“Against me? I’ve got to warn you, I’m pretty good. I’m Kyla, by the way.”
Wyatt’s face snapped towards Kyla, really looking at her now. He took her in, his eyes moving from her simple brown shoes to my hat on her head .
Wyatt, being the drunk idiot he was, chuckled. “Hey, Kyla, I take it my older brother is taking you home tonight?”
Kyla gave a nervous scoff, and turned to me. “Um, no. Not that I’m aware of. We’re just having a good time.”
Wyatt shot up an eyebrow and jerked his head back to me.
“Wyatt,” I said sternly. He may only be four years younger than me, but sometimes he needed to have the sense knocked into him.
“What? It’s a valid question. She wears the hat, she rides the cowboy.”