Chapter 43
“S age Maloney, this is one of the biggest stops on the rodeo circuit. The Grand Daddy. You honestly expect us to believe you’re going to hide away in your hotel room with takeout and be a hermit?”
Three sets of eyes peer at me through the screen. Everyone is currently at Rhodes Ranch for a BBQ, and the girls took the opportunity to video call while Briar and Layla are down from their isolated mountain world for the evening.
“I entitle this masterpiece: rot girl summer, party for one .” I shrug and wiggle my Kindle and tentacle dildo at the camera, leaving them all snorting and laughing. “Allow me to wallow and binge-read monster smut in peace, thank you very much. Now, I demand to know everything I’ve been missing out on in your horse-girl lives. Freckles, you’re up first…” I pop a couple of fries into my mouth.
Layla gives me an exaggerated eye roll. “Don’t think I’m not watching you, Sergeant. But since you’re asking, and since you’re all here to be able to let you know at the same time… the stables I worked at in Ireland got in touch and asked if I would be interested in coming back for a couple of months. I just booked our flights. We’ll leave before fall.”
“Holy shit, that’s soon. As in… really soon?” Sky chokes on her drink.
“I know. We’d been planning to travel for winter anyway, so figured we could make it work. Colt is going to talk to Storm about helping look after the place until Kayce is finished on the rodeo circuit for the season.” She looks at Briar, who is grinning back.
“Does that mean I get to come and look after your horses for you?”
“Pretty please?” Layla smiles broadly.
I sink back into my hotel bed, leaning against the headboard and let their conversation keep flowing on the phone screen. We end up mostly chatting about life in Crimson Ridge for the others, and very gratefully, the topic doesn’t veer back to my life.
Or lack thereof.
As they talk about summer plans and their businesses, I’m struck by a wave of immense pride in all of them. They’re living their dreams while also having the loves of their lives right by their side. And while I couldn’t be happier for all of them to have achieved the kind of success they have, it certainly leaves a special kind of numbness, right down to the bone, that my business might be seeing the type of expansion I’d hoped for, yet no amount of client contacts and email inquiries for my services can fill the cowboy shaped cavity in my chest.
Since leaving Crimson Ridge, part of my coping mechanism has been to block everything to do with Beau Heartford and Mandy Spires. It took all of one night alone in a hotel the rodeo tour put me up in to be tempted to look them up online, and I practically had to fling my computer across the room. I’d drive myself insane knowing I had that sort of search function power at my fingertips, so an internet keyword blocker has been my best friend for this past year.
“We adore you and miss you, Sage.” Briar’s sweet voice pulls me back to the sight of my friends as we say our goodbyes.
“Miss your titties.” I blow them all a kiss. “Bye, bitches. I’ll send you some shots from the arena tomorrow night.” Waving at them, I watch as the screen goes black, and they disappear. Once again, I’m left to the quiet solitude of another night in another town in another hotel room.
I’ve loved everything about the tour so far. The adrenaline of the competitions. The spectacle of each stop and energy of the crowd is a magical thing. Yet, it weighs heavy, because with every new place I go, and each day I turn up to work, there are ghosts of Beau Heartford I can’t outrun.
His name is so ingrained in this sport, in this culture. Even when I’m trying my hardest to not think about the way his lips tip up with a smirk to send butterflies erupting in my belly, or his strong arms wrapping me up tight while lying in bed together, there’s always an unexpected reminder of him that gallops in.
I’m considering whether I should drag my ass to go shower, or maybe I should hit the hotel gym for a late-night run on the treadmill, when my phone chimes.
Layla:
He’s not here at the BBQ tonight. I just thought you might want to know.
And I’m serious when I say I’m watching you, young lady. The Sage I know doesn’t mooch around in her room, no matter how much shifter smut she’s got stacked on her Kindle.
Talk to me whenever you need to, ok?
I send Layla some kiss emojis, and really don’t have the heart to respond to her note about Beau not being around. She’s the best friend I could ask for, giving me that gentle reassurance that it’s not like he’s there, hanging out somewhere in the background of their call, entirely uninterested in speaking to me.
Not that I would blame him after what I did.
Although it doesn’t exactly help to know that piece of information, because my overactive bitch of a brain instantly presumes the reason he’s not there at the BBQ with all our friends is most likely due to the fact he’s long since shoved memories of me in the trash. I’ve tried to stay indifferent to the year passing by, but I can only assume if his divorce went ahead without any further delays, then he may well already be single.
He may very well have moved on with someone new.
Ugh . That churns up a swell of awful, sour emotion deep in my gut. Thinking of Beau being with someone else is enough to make me nauseous.
Exhaling a heavy breath, my fingers ball into a fist and then hover over my inbox until I finally cave and open the thread of texts I’ve read and re-read what feels like a hundred thousand times. To the point that I could almost certainly recite them line-by-line.
Cock Ring:
I know you probably won’t have listened to my voicemail where I’ve said all of this out loud, so let me repeat it, in writing:
Please stay with me. Please let me show you all the ways you deserve to be loved.
I’ve lain awake at night thinking of how you’re a woman who is far too good for a man like me, yet I’m here on my fucking knees, baby. I’m hoping you might give me a chance to prove to you how you don’t just mean the world, but you’re my entire goddamn universe.
I want you to have that crystal sun catcher you were thinking about buying so you can be showered with rainbows while you work. I want you to never have to cook another damn meal in your life if you don’t want to. I want you to trust that when shit gets heavy, you can put it down and know I’m already right there picking everything up.
And that includes picking you up, too. That strong, independent, ‘master everything yourself’ collar you wear is gorgeous and sexy, and I’m so proud of everything you do. But let me be there to hold you when you just want to be soft for a moment.
Goddamn, Sage. I’m not gonna lie. This is killing me. I’d crawl across fire and burning coals just to have you stay. Don’t let this be it for us. Don’t walk away.
How can I prove it to you? Just tell me, and I’ll do it. You want the stars? I’ll fucking saddle up and rope ‘em all for you, baby. I’ll even throw in the moon if that’s what your heart wants.
I love you, Sage.
I miss you so fucking bad.
The messages stopped after about six months. Beau tried. He really tested my resolve to stay away from him. Every single sweet line he wrote tempted me. I nearly caved so many times, having to throw myself into work to cope with the urgent need to hear his voice.
What was I going to be? His dirty little secret, hidden away in Crimson Ridge? Known forever more as the woman who broke up their perfect marriage? No, thank you.
It was what we both needed. I can only hope that maybe, there might be a day when Beau reappears in my life. But the more days that pass, the more the likelihood of that happening seems to dwindle like a candle flickering out in the evening breeze.
Stepping into my ensuite, I flip the shower on and start undressing. With thoughts swirling in time with the water flowing down the drain, I get caught in a memory of him. One of many that I tend to let roll through my mind’s eye when I’m drowning in all the ways I’m missing him—his tenderness mixed with the kind of downright mischief he has to match my own.
“I’m not some filly to be tamed, hot stuff.”
“You think I want to try and tame you?”
I nod and nibble gently on my bottom lip. Watching on from beneath heavy lashes, Beau slides his way down my body as I lie back, spread out beneath his bulk. God, I’m far too addicted to the weight of him splayed across my body like this. As he descends with a deliciously wicked noise, his nose traces between my breasts.
“Oh, you’ve got it all wrong, baby. I’m not interested in trying to do anything but hold on tight and not get thrown out of the saddle.” Wet lips brush a hungry path, sucking my furled nipple through the thin fabric of my tank, and his mustache scratches over the sensitive curve of my breast. “I’m in this for the ride, the win, and the championship buckle.”
“You’re supposed to be teaching me how to take pretty photos of stars. Not whatever this is you’re intent on.” I scold him without any actual desire for him to stop what he’s doing because, yes, please, and thank you, I’m addicted to orgasms given at the hands and tongue of this man.
Beau hums against me. A soft cowboy-esque purr of contentment rumbles from somewhere deep inside that broad chest of his the second my fingers thread into his hair. I’m so giddy with the noises he makes whenever I give him those kinds of small moments, the simplest things like brushing my touch over his brow or his jaw. And right now, I’m tightening my hold to guide him to exactly where I want his mouth covering my tits. He’s far too expert at wielding that devious tongue against me like a goddamn weapon.
“Maybe I’m too wild, even for the great and mighty Beau Heartford to handle.”
He slides further down my body, with the blanket we’re sharing rustling as it pools around my thighs. My cowboy stares back at me with a calming gaze, deeper than a bottomless lake and more sturdy than the mountains we’re surrounded by.
“Throw everything you’ve got at me, trouble. Do your worst. I’ll climb back on even if I hit the dirt.”
“What if I stomp on your heart?” I breathe out the words into the midnight air.
“Then it means I had the honor of getting close enough to yours.”
My pulse kicks and flutters. Is he telling me he’s in love with me? Surely not.
“You bull riders really are something else.” I flash a coy grin at him and shake my head.
Beau’s expression curves into a look of mischief as he deftly unbuttons my jeans, tugs them and my panties low on my ass in order to expose my pussy lips, before lowering his mouth.
“Make sure to hang on tight, baby.”