12. Bailey
Bailey
I paid the dinner bill despite Lettie’s protests to split it. She came back from the restroom to find her cash still sitting on the table.
“I’ll just leave it as a tip then,” she snarked as she grabbed her cowhide wallet.
I smiled, rolling my eyes. We made our way through the restaurant, the space cramped with the amount of people dining here tonight.
A kid ran out in front of Lettie and she stumbled back to miss colliding with him.
I shot my arm out, my hand instinctively going to her waist to steady her.
She leaned back into me slightly and I didn’t miss when she briefly squeezed her eyes shut.
“Lettie? ”
She righted herself, pushing my hand away. I reluctantly let go of her. “I’m fine.”
She continued out of the restaurant and I followed, concern flowing through me. Whatever that was in there didn’t seem like just a small stumble.
She stood on the sidewalk out front of the doors, taking a deep breath. “Just hot in there.”
I didn’t buy it, but I wouldn’t push her. It’d only cause her to retaliate, and I didn’t want to piss her off on our trip.
She turned to face me, a devious smile on her lips. “Want to go to the bar?”
“We’ve got a big day-”
She interrupted me. “Oh, c’mon, Bailey, we’re supposed to be having fun. Trouble, remember?”
I did say that, didn’t I? I guess there was no harm in a drink or two. The auction didn’t start until the afternoon, anyway.
“Sure, but only for an hour.” If Lettie had it her way, we’d be out all damn night.
“Rules? That’s not the Bailey I know.”
I rolled my eyes as she aimed for the dive bar next door. Once again, I followed. I was a lost puppy with Lettie, hopelessly wishing she’d throw me a bone.
At some point, I’d get around to getting answers out of her. Answers as to what made her go radio silent with me for five years before all of a sudden deciding to come back. But for now, I’d enjoy her being here, with me. I had five years to make up for. I’d better make it count.
** *
Three shots and two beers later, I was pretty fucking buzzed, and not just off the alcohol.
I was drunk off Lettie’s laugh, her smile, her eyes.
I couldn't keep my eyes off her ass every time she wandered to the jukebox, queuing up yet another Zach Bryan song. The woman was obsessed, but I wasn’t holding it against her.
The guy knew how to write a damn good song.
She made her way back to our table full of glasses, sliding into her chair and taking a long pull from her beer before speaking. “So, Bailey, tell me what I missed.”
“Over the last five years?”
She nodded. “Mmhm.”
“Well, your dad adopted out around eighty horses in the last two years. I lost track of the number before then. Callan’s been getting good business as more people sign up for lessons. Beck has no problem staying on broncs for longer than eight-”
“No,” she interrupted.
I cocked my head. “No?”
“I don’t want to hear about them . I mean you . What have I missed with you?”
I rolled my lips together after I took a sip of beer. “You haven’t missed much.”
She grabbed the edge of the table, leaning forward. “Oh, c’mon! Give me something. ”
“I’ve just been doing what I’ve always done. Balancing the workload on my parents’ ranch and helping out with the rescue.”
“You’re telling me nothing has changed with you since I left?”
I reached up to shove my cowboy hat lower, angling the brim down. The axis in which my world sat stopped spinning the moment Lettie crossed the county line.
I shrugged. “I help out where I can. I’m content.”
She reached across the table and grabbed my hat, pulling it off and setting it on her own head. I frowned as she adjusted it.
“Stop covering those eyes,” she said.
A smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. “Why?”
She sat back in her chair, shrugging as she crossed her arms. “They’re beautiful, is all.”
I leaned forward, the table small enough to where I was more than halfway across as I laid my arms on the sticky surface, folding my fingers together. “You think my eyes are beautiful?”
Her eyes were glued to mine as her features softened, her voice quieter than before. “I always have, Bailey.”
I searched her eyes as the realization of what she said sunk in. She stared at me, my hat looking damn good on her despite it being many sizes too big, causing it to tilt slightly. Though her comment was innocent enough, I couldn’t help but think further into it and what her admission had revealed.
She’d looked at me, really looked at me. As more than a friend, I was sure.
I didn’t miss when she watched me walk away that day on the ranch, her face displaying her feelings, or all those times we’d swam at the creek as kids, her eyes lingering on me when I’d wear nothing but boxers.
I didn’t imagine any of it, I knew that now.
No matter how long it took, I’d get her to open up and admit those feelings.
Even if she did all she could to hide them.
Even if those feelings were part of the reason she left.
Snapping us out of the trance we were in, she pushed back from the table and stood, a smile that meant she was up to no good pasted on her lips. “Let’s do a shot.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Another one?”
She crossed her arms in challenge. “You quitting on me early, Bailey Cooper?”
I stood up, shaking my head. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
She made her way over to the bar, and again, I followed. This time, I was better at keeping my eyes on the back of her head instead of her round ass. That was, until I was practically face to face with it when she put her knee on a bar stool with her hands on the bar.
“What are you doing?” I hovered my hands beside her hips in case she fell. She had to be buzzed at this point.
She sat her pretty ass on the bar, facing me with her boots planted on the stool and her hands gripping the edge. Her hair fell around her face as she spoke.
“I dare you to do a belly shot.”
A nervous laugh escaped me. “This isn’t truth or dare, Huckleberry. ”
She raised an eyebrow, challenging me again. Lettie was going to be the death of me - my ruin, my damnation - but I didn’t mind. She’d ruined me before, when she left all those years ago. At least this time, she was within reach. As long as that was the case, I’d go down willingly.
Taking a deep breath, I gestured to the bar. “Fine. Lay flat.” She thought I’d back down, but I was determined as hell when it came to her.
Shock passed over her features briefly before she took my hat off, setting it on the bar beside her.
She obeyed, her back resting on the top of the bar with her hair falling around her shoulders to rest on the wood.
She didn’t lift her shirt, so I took the initiative before she could take the opportunity from me.
Her hands laid at her sides as I stood over her, my fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt.
When my fingers made contact with her skin, her breath hitched.
I slid the material up, only enough to expose her belly button.
I swallowed as I saw the rise and fall of her stomach, looking over to her face to see her eyes glued to me.
The bartender came over and handed me the bottle of whiskey, assumingly not wanting to come off as disrespectful by pouring it himself. I grabbed the bottle, hovering it over her before I broke eye contact and poured the amber liquid, the liquid pooling on her belly.
Setting the bottle on the bar, I grazed my fingertips over her jean-clad thigh as I bent down. Instead of getting it over with, I took my time. If this was the only opportunity I got to put my mouth on her, I was going to enjoy it.
I kissed the smooth skin next to her belly button, my breath hot on her skin as my tongue slipped out, lapping at her stomach.
I felt her breath hitch again as I moved my tongue lower, right below where the whiskey sat.
I felt her fingers twitch against my chest and I ached to feel them on my body and in my hair.
My hand on her thigh inched upward, but I stopped before I could get ahead of myself.
I kissed her skin again before pulling away an inch, only to come back down, closing my mouth over her belly button.
I sucked the rich liquid up. The burn down my throat was nothing compared to the pressure in my dick.
I lapped out, licking up any missed alcohol, making sure to clean her of the substance entirely before pulling back to stand up straight.
I moved my hand from her thigh to grab the bottom of her shirt, pulling it back down to cover her stomach.
She gazed at me a moment before she came to her senses, finally moving her arms to push up off the bar.
Before she could jump down, I stepped in between her legs, setting my hands on her waist. Her eyes flicked down to my lips before they shot back up to my eyes.
Setting my hat back on her head, I lifted her effortlessly and took a step back, setting her on the ground.
“Quittin’ time?” I asked her, our bodies mere inches from each other.
Her gulp was audible as she nodded her head.
I stepped out of her way, gesturing for her to go first. She walked by me, her shoulder brushing my chest. I grabbed my wallet, pulling out cash to put it on the bar.
I slapped the wood twice, the bartender glancing over.
I waved my thanks and followed after Lettie, slipping my wallet back in my jeans.
I could blame what just happened between us on the alcohol, but as the saying goes, drunk words are sober thoughts. There was no denying the way our bodies just reacted to each other. I could practically feel her holding back as my mouth came in contact with her skin.
If she was tamping down her body's response because of that small moment, I could only imagine how it would be if I had the chance to explore her entire body.
Thank goodness we were heading back to separate beds because I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself if I tried after getting a taste of her.