Chapter 14
M y eyes drift over the cowboy who settles back, reclining at leisure against an impressively large rounded hay bale. He looks my way, and there’s no reading his stony expression.
Meanwhile, I’ve got my arms wrapped around my stomach, trying to deflect the attention I’ve unintentionally brought upon myself by sitting here with chattering teeth.
Would there be anything more mortifying than admitting how distracted I was earlier, so much so that I left any warm layers I had intended to bring for my Devil’s Peak sleepover sitting in a neat pile on the bed back at my cabin? That I was too busy trying to focus on not thinking about the fact I’d be once again sitting in the front of Beau’s truck with him, while he’s all broody and quiet and turning me inside out without knowing it.
“I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine.” Scooping my hair over one shoulder, I twist some of the strands. “It’s my fault for forgetting to bring warmer clothes tonight. I’ve been lured in by Crimson Ridge being all heatwaves and sweating my mascara off down at the ranch.”
“Want me to run up to the house and grab you something warmer?” Layla offers. “I can see your goosebumps from here, Sarge. Don’t tell me you’re not shivering in your boots.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Hayes start to move where he’s seated on the tailgate of one of the trucks. A country gentleman, ready to strip the shirt off his back. “Here, take this. These bones are more used to the mountains than yours are.”
There’s a cough, followed by a raspy clearing of a throat from my other side.
“Plenty of room here.” Beau looks a tad murderous while taking in my frozen appearance, and certainly doesn’t say it with any warmth in his tone. Even so, he flips the corner of his blanket up, extending an invitation for me to go toward him and settle there.
My heart leaps into a gallop. This seems like a terrible idea, considering how much of a puddle I turn into while in close quarters with the man.
“It’s all yours, Sage,” he says those words evenly, without any hint of what he might be thinking, and maybe that’s what prompts me to move.
Perhaps I’m pettier than I ever knew myself to be, because I’m suddenly very interested in snuggling myself beneath that blanket he’s using. And screw him for the way he manages to be such a tightly sealed fortress, acting like we’re complete strangers. Here I am, battling not to reveal every single inner thought written in my expression, to not give away the dirty little fantasies I carry around about this man, and he’s able to act as indifferent as they come.
So, my feet are moving, and I plonk myself down with a flutter of my eyelashes, and a polite smile in the direction of my boss, who I definitely did not have another toe-curling orgasm while thinking about this morning.
Truly, my efforts should be deemed worthy of a Best Actress award.
* * *
If I was in charge of the script to the cowboy movie I’m currently seated in the middle of, the dashing older gentleman next to me would be offering to cuddle for warmth. You know… that cute, swoony moment where the couple who have been at odds finally agree to compromise in the face of the night air and a dire need to share body heat while wrapped up in a plush blanket.
Sadly, for my overactive imagination, Beau Heartford has clearly understood the assignment where his public image is concerned. He’s the perfect example of a wedded man.
The guy couldn’t make it more obvious that he isn’t paying me any mind. He might as well have constructed a pillow fort between us and planted a flag on his side, clearly indicating a territorial divide to under no circumstances dare consider crossing.
It’s comical really, in an infuriating way. Here we sit, sharing a blanket in front of a cozy bonfire, with heat and a gentle rubbing of thighs and shoulders against one another whenever either of us adjusts our position. When only a few short nights ago, we stood breathlessly close and he stared at my mouth while clasping hold of my wrist, seemingly without any intention of letting go.
Until his wife’s phone call, that is.
He’s doing all the correct things. As a married man—or at least in the eyes of those here who don’t know the truth of his circumstances—his disinterest in my presence came complete with a gruff apology when I first sat down, and we innocently bumped elbows. I swear to god, he nearly leaped up to run off and join the nearby cows the first time his jeans brushed up against my bare thigh.
No matter, I know this tune. I’m nothing to him, and he’s only a gorgeous fascination I need to shake off. Even if we did share another of those moments that feel so damn electric between us, he’s still my boss. He’s clearly not interested in acting on anything. I’d like to consider myself clever enough to make sure my guard stays up and my radar for frivolous, unattached fun remains on point and uncompromised.
In fact, half the crowd here tonight is certainly more than capable of showing me the side of Crimson Ridge that shimmies to life and boot-scoots around a dance floor after dark.
“Tell me more about The Loaded Hog.” I lean forward and pin the group of cowboys and cowgirls, the rodeo crowd who are accompanying Kayce, with a smile. “What does a gal like me need to know before I jump into the arena with the other so-called Chaos Twin ?” I make a V with my fingers and point between my eyes and his cheeky expression over on the truck tailgate.
Hayes chuckles. “Can’t ever turn that brain off, huh? Got that workaholic blood in your veins? Guess you and my brother will have that in common.”
“A little market research goes a long way… I’m nothing but a utility knife. Consider me prepared and ready for every angle and opportunity for promotion.”
“The old girl is sweet, but has long needed a glow-up,” Brad says while leaning up against Flinn, as the two share a tumbler of whiskey between them.
“The previous owners didn’t give a shit for a long time. Let any old assholes in, especially the kind who were happy to spend big but only have an interest in looking for trouble. Ultimately, they were in the game for a quick buck and that was all it was for them.”
Flinn nods. “This is a small community… if you’re going to have a place like the Hog, you want to make sure it’s safe for everyone.”
“There’s something to be said about creating a place you can feel proud of, that you’d happily go there any day of the week, not just because it’s the only choice in town, ya know?” Kayce cracks his knuckles. “I’ll also be the first to say that since Hayes took over, I’ve been glad to have somewhere that makes it comfortable whether you’re drinking or not.”
“You know…” Hayes runs a hand through his hair. “There’s that summer fest starting this weekend in the main street. Kicks off tonight. Live music, food trucks, shit like that. I was planning to go give a hand behind the bar later on, but if you want to come down and take a look around, you’re more than welcome to join us?”
At my side, I swear I feel a wave of tension roll off Beau, but whatever. He’s occupied talking with Storm and I’m probably just imagining things.
“Layla and I have a hot date on the agenda for tomorrow.” I give an apologetic smile. “We’re cuddling horses and knocking out a killer website, so I’ll have to rain check.”
Kayce stretches his long legs out in front of his camping chair. “I’m driving, Sage. Gotta be back up here for an early start tomorrow, so you can hitch a ride back with me if you do want to go down to Crimson Ridge.”
“Head down to town and light it up if you want, Sergeant, but I’m tapping out. You know where your room is, and I’ll leave the door unlocked for you to creep in at sunrise.” My best friend gets to her feet and yawns. “Just don’t go putting on anyone’s hat, or they absolutely will try to get you pregnant.” She smirks at me and kisses my forehead. Colt is right behind her, ever the besotted, burly shadow taking care of my best friend.
Once they’re standing, that’s the signal for everyone else to start moving on for the night, like a mob of cattle, it would seem.
Storm tosses Briar over one shoulder and strides off in the direction of their truck. “Later motherfuckers.” He calls into the gathering darkness, amid the shriek of protest from the woman hanging upside down. She buries her face in his shoulder and shares her own farewell mixed with a muffled apology.
The others start chatting among themselves, making plans to head back down the mountain. Everyone seems to be saying their goodbyes, and I’m left weighing my options.
A night of dancing and music and fun down in Crimson Ridge?
Or… remain here, where a certain cowboy is also planning to stay?
I’m stranded, surrounded by an ocean of indecision and temptation, and I don’t dare put a toe in the water, lest I find myself unable to resist diving headlong into the jaws of all sorts of very, very wrong ideas.
Although, it would seem that the cowboys in these mountains move much faster than my brain after a couple of whisky neats. In the time it has taken me to assess my options for tonight, chew the inside of my cheek, and dart sidelong glances at the man I’m currently sharing a blanket with, they’ve packed up and are ready to head out.
Kayce swings into the cab of his truck and hollers my way.
“You coming or what, Sergeant?”