Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Calvin was drunk. And so fuckin' pretty it hurt to look at her too long.
Ain't no way in hell I was lettin' her stay in the bunkhouse, no matter what kinda threats she'd thrown out.
Fuck, she was as scary as she was sexy.
And, I coulda been wrong, but I was thinkin' she had a sweet side, too. One I was certain not too many got to see.
Sounded like her daddy did a number on her. But where was her mama? Somethin' told me a woman didn't suit up with that kind of armor if she had one around.
"Alright, boys. Think it's time we call it. Got a long Monday ahead of y'all tomorrow."
"Buzzkill." Calvin jutted out her bottom lip in a pout that had my cock twitchin' in my pants. I'd been half hard all night. Couple of times I thought I might pass out from the lack of blood pumpin' to my brain.
"C'mon, viper. Time for bed. You ain't seen Rhett in boss-man mode yet. He can be a real pain in the dick."
"You ain't wrong!" Slim shouted. He was a short, stocky fucker, despite the nickname, with a head of thick, curly hair that always seemed to have his hat poppin' off. He'd been the first to Yes, Ms. Calvin like the good little boy his mama raised him to be.
"Yeah, Ms. Calvin. Better get some shut-eye," Tommy added. He was the newer of the two cowboys. A transplant from Texas. He held his own and buddied right up with Slim, whose father had retired from the ranch last year.
"Alright, boys. Thanks for playing with me." She waggled her eyebrows before turnin' toward her bunk, thick hips swayin' with each step. She had a damn fine ass. If I closed my eyes and thought real hard, I could almost imagine the feel of it, my hands squeezing tight while she rode my face.
Fuck. These really weren't the things I should be thinkin' about. I should probably be thinkin' about how I was gonna make shit right with Sassy. With Rhett.
But, damn, if that didn't feel like one big clusterfuck I wished I could avoid.
I hated that Sassy was hurtin'. It was never what I wanted for her—the opposite, in fact.
The Calvin slip-up had been salt in a still-open wound.
I shoulda known better than to try to get my dick wet when things were still so unsettled. Such a fuckin' idiot.
Couldn't say I regretted it, though. One night coming on my own stomach while getting smothered by this woman's delicious pussy would stay locked up tight in my spank bank for eternity.
It was more than just how pretty, how sexy she was, though.
She made me feel different, somehow. Maybe it was 'cause I hadn't known her my whole damn life, but it was like I could be anyone with her.
Whoever the fuck I wanted to be without the expectation of being Rhett's best friend or Sassy's fiancé or Steven Lancaster's son.
I could just be her boy scout. Let her boss me around. Tell me her secrets.
Calvin toed off her black boots and slid them under the bed before she reached her hands around to her back, under the hem of her shirt and unhooked her bra.
She did that wild thing I'd seen Sassy do a thousand times where she slipped the straps off and pulled it out from under the front hem.
Like a goddamn magic trick. One that resulted in hard nipples straining against a too-thin t-shirt.
I glanced left and right, checkin' for Slim and Tommy, who both happened to be in the bathroom.
"You ain't sleepin' in that, are you?"
She scoffed. "Of course not."
Then she thumbed open the button of her jeans, unzipped them, and wiggled the skin-tight material over her hips and past her knees before steppin' out and leaving 'em in a heap on the floor.
"Much better." She shimmied her shoulders and her tits gave a little bounce that had me hard enough to pound nails.
Then Calvin slipped into her bunk like it was perfectly normal to sleep in a bunkhouse full of cowboys in nothing but a paper-thin shirt and underwear that barely covered her perfect ass.
I sighed, knowin' it wasn't worth the fight. I'd tell her to put on some clothes, she'd tell me to fuck off, and she'd win in the end.
So, instead, I kicked off my own boots, hung my hat on the hook, and climbed into the top bunk.
"Whatcha doin', boy scout?"
"Going to sleep, viper. I suggest you do the same."
She peeked her head out from under the bunk, and I looked down at her.
"Brody, go home. I don't need you to stay here."
"Can't. Too tired to drive."
It was a lie. She knew it, too. But like I'd relented on her bedtime attire, she relented on this.
"You sleep in the bunkhouse?"
I nearly jumped outta my fuckin' skin. What was it with my best friend sneakin' up on me in the last twenty-four hours?
"Jesus Christ, Rhett." I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling my heart hammerin' against my ribs. "You tryin' to give me a heart attack?"
He was leanin' against the side of the building, arms crossed, lookin' like he'd been waiting there for a while.
The early morning light caught the exhaustion written all over his face—dark circles under his eyes, hair stickin' up like he'd been runnin' his hands through it all night.
Probably dealin' with the aftermath of the mess I'd caused.
"Answer the question."
I glanced back at the bunkhouse door, makin' sure it was firmly shut behind me. Last thing I needed was Calvin overhearing this conversation. Hell, last thing I needed was this conversation at all, but the look on Rhett's face told me I wasn't gettin' out of it.
"Yeah, well..." I rubbed the back of my neck, buying time. "Seemed like the thing to do."
"The thing to do." His voice was flat, unimpressed. "Right."
I shifted on my feet, torn between fleeing the scene and squarin' up with him. Before I made up my mind, he made the choice for me.
"Let's take a walk."
"Like, a walk off a short bridge kinda walk, or…?"
Rhett barked out a laugh, which was a good sign, I hoped. People didn't normally laugh before offing their best friends, did they? More I thought about it, though, he had no reason to. I'd done him a favor, given him his opening. He just had to take it.
"Nah, dipshit. Just feels like we got some shit to talk out. Lake?"
I sniffed a pit. "Dip in the lake is as good as any bath."
That was absolutely un-fucking-true, but damn if I didn't feel the need to make light of this whole situation.
It was what I did, who I was. The good time guy, as Sassy had put it. I wasn't expected to have deep thoughts, big feelings.
I fuckin' hated it. Because despite whether people expected me to have them, I still did. Just nowhere to put 'em.
Maybe today was a good day to change that.
Rhett clapped me on the back and we walked in silence toward the lake. It was about a quarter mile deep in the opposite direction of the big pasture. Cows never came over here, but we'd bring the horses to water them, relax while we swam. Been doin' it since we were kids.
We sat at the end of the small dock that had a canoe tied to it—one we'd tipped countless times. Neither of us spoke for a long while, just starin' out into the beauty that was Wild Acre Ranch. In the heat of summer, the water glistened under the sun that was just beginnin' to rise.
Finally, I couldn't handle the quiet anymore. "Listen—"
Rhett stopped me with a firm hand set on my shoulder. "No, let me." His swallow was audible. He dropped his hand back to the dock, but didn't look my way. "I don't even know what to say, but just know I should say it. Say somethin'. I'm sorry, maybe?"
"Ain't nothin' to be sorry for, brother. It is what it is."
"I never would have done anythin' about it. Never would have acted on it. I know you think you know what's goin' on, but she don't feel that way about me."
But I remembered the night Dad died. While I was too fucked up to even stand, it was Rhett who'd held Sassy when she broke down. Rhett who'd whispered in her ear until she stopped shakin'. And the way she'd looked at him when she finally pulled back... like he'd just saved her from drowning.
It was one memory in a box that I'd assembled when I'd cleaned Sassy's stuff outta the apartment, then stored away in a place in my mind that said ain't no point in revisiting these ones.
"She does. She's just stubborn."
"Brody, I just held that girl all night long while she cried. About you."
"You've always held her when she cried. Always been there for her.
She's never run to me the way she runs to you.
Shit, she's never looked at me the way she looks at you.
I can see it now. And it's okay." I turned and gripped his shoulder, forcing him to look my way.
"It's okay, Rhett. I made my peace with it.
Now y'all have some shit to work out between the two of you. "
He sighed, but nodded, turnin' back to the lake. "She's hurtin', Brody. It's gonna take a good bit of time before she's anywhere close to ready to have that conversation—if she ever is." He darted a look my way. "And you flauntin' your hookups around the ranch ain't helpin'."
I scrubbed a hand down my face, stubble a little longer than I was used to—since I was used to wakin' up to a shower and a shave instead of a soul-searchin' session by the lake.
"Shit, man. I fucked up. It just came out without thinkin'."
"You fuck her?"
"Nope." I chuckled. "Didn't have a chance. Blew on my stomach like a fucking chump."
Rhett doubled over laughin'.
So I did the only logical thing.
I pushed him in the lake.