14. Sally
CHAPTER 14
Sally
FRIENDS MAKE EVERYTHING BETTER
“Since you’re a gamblin’ woman now,” Wyatt says, threading his horse’s reins through his gloved hands, “how about we race for some money?”
I’m on Penny, the appropriately named copper-colored mare I usually ride when I visit Lucky River Ranch. Wyatt and I tacked up at the horse barn, and now we’re headed out into the glorious fall morning.
“We forgot to collect our winnings last night, didn’t we?” I say with a smile.
Screwing an eye shut against the sun, Wyatt lifts his hips so he can dig into his front pocket. The motion draws my gaze to his thighs, which strain against the broken-in, faded denim of his Wranglers.
An image flashes across my thoughts—the muscles in those thighs tensing as Wyatt pumps into me, his breath warm on my ear as he murmurs, Only you, Sunshine. You’re the only one I want.
Then again, he made it perfectly clear he just wanted sex. As much as that hurt—as much as I wish he’d asked for more—more is not in the cards. I have to get over that. I will get over that, if only so I can enjoy what Wyatt is willing to give me.
He holds up a wad of cash. “Sawyer grabbed it for us and dropped it in my mailbox late last night. Winner gets double?”
Wyatt is six-two, so he’s got long legs. But they’re thick, too, and so well-muscled that I can see the bulbous outline of his quadriceps through his jeans. The man is shredded, and?—
Oh my God, I really do get to see him naked, don’t I?
When? How? And what kind of delicious damage can be wrought by those quads?
Ever since he told me in no uncertain terms that he wanted to continue what we’d started last night, I’ve been wondering how it’s going to go down. Part of me hoped he’d throw me over his shoulder and take me right to bed after we finished our coffee.
Another part likes the sense of anticipation that comes with not knowing what will happen next. It’s edging at its finest.
By the time we get down to business, I’m going to be a hot, bothered mess.
I rock my hips in the saddle, my center aching for friction. “That’ll just about empty out my bank account. But since I’m gonna win, I guess I don’t need to worry about that, do I?”
Wyatt settles his ass back in the saddle and smirks. “You talk a strong game, Sunshine. First one to the fence in the south pasture?”
I look at him. He looks back. His blue eyes are piercing this morning, bright with laughter.
Laughter and lust. Because I know what lust looks like on him now. The tic of his jaw. The hard, fiery gleam in his eyes and the way they flick to my mouth.
“I’ll take that fifty, cowboy.”
Without waiting for a reply, I dig my heels into Penny’s sides. She takes off at a sprint, my body rolling in time to her strong, even strides. The pounding of her hooves reverberates up my sides, a tickle that has me smiling like a lunatic as we rip past the corral and head out to the open pasture.
“You no-good cheater!” Wyatt calls behind me.
The breeze howls in my ears, the air cool and fresh. My hair flies everywhere, but I don’t care. Heart thundering inside my chest, I feel the warmth of the sun seep through my clothes and into my skin. The familiar smells of sunbaked earth and leather fill my head.
For a second, I close my eyes and revel in the awesomeness of it all. There’s nothing like it in the world. Upstate New York is beautiful in its own way, but there aren’t wide-open spaces like this that invite you to ride like the devil just because you can. The sun also doesn’t shine nearly as bright up there, especially this late in the year.
I also have virtually no free time at Ithaca University because I’m always, always working. When was the last time I rode for pleasure like this? Nowhere to be, nothing to do. Just me and my horse.
And my very, very sexy best friend. I glance over my shoulder at the thunder of more hooves, and I let out a yell when I see Wyatt quickly gaining ground.
I don’t ride as often now as I did when we were younger, but I can still give Wyatt a run for his money. Literally, in this case.
Firming my grip on the reins, I guide Penny faster, faster still. She moves smoothly, her glossy mane glinting in the sun, and I can tell by the way she keeps her head held high that she’s enjoying this even more than I am.
Isn’t this the whole point of what I do? I perform surgery so animals like Penny can run wild and free, just like she is now. It’s what she was born to do.
Maybe I was born to be wild and free too. Maybe we all are, every living thing.
That’s paradoxically easy to forget when all you do is try to fix the world and the living things in it, but you never get to enjoy any of it.
“That’s it, Penny. Let’s kick some cowboy ass.”
But Wyatt catches up to us. “Cheaters never win!”
“Call my bluff then!”
“That makes no sense!”
“I know!”
“You were supposed to be my best student!”
“Maybe you’re not such a good teacher!”
“Don’t make me get out the ruler!”
“I wish you would!”
I’m laughing. We both are. I’m gripped by the crazy idea that I’ve never been this happy. Wyatt brings out the kid in me, and I guess I forgot what that feels like.
It feels like freedom and joy and possibility.
Wyatt takes the lead, his horse kicking up dust as they take off. I’m able to see just how good my friend looks in the saddle. He rides with a confidence that makes my blood rush hot. One hand on the reins, the other held out to the side, he’s all cowboy cockiness in his hat and his jean jacket and the blue bandana he wears to keep the dust out of his mouth.
He turns his head and shoots me a devil-may-care grin. The handsome way his face creases, how blue his eyes are, how happy he looks too—it’s like a kick to the chest.
What if I can’t leave him?
What if we have sex and it’s so good that I let down my defenses and actually admit to myself just how hard I’ve fallen for him, and then I’m too heartbroken to go back to New York?
Am I secretly dying for that to happen?
But that’s assuming Wyatt would want me to stay. And it’s pretty obvious that the only semi-romantic interest he has in me is purely physical. It’s all he feels for any girl he’s with. That’s just him. As much as I’d like to think I’m different— that he’d feel differently about me because we have so much history—I just don’t think that’s the case.
It hurts a little, if I’m being honest. But beggars can’t be choosers. And aren’t I getting what I asked for? I told myself I didn’t want love. I want kissing and touching and really great sex, and Wyatt is offering me all that on a silver platter. I have no right to complain.
But I do have a right to feel my feelings. I just wish they didn’t make this all so complicated.
I urge Penny into an all-out sprint, and we catch up to Wyatt in no time. His eyes flash with something like appreciation as we go nose-to-nose.
The fence comes into view, along with an enormous tree with bare branches that’s fifty or so yards ahead.
“The oak,” Wyatt shouts. “First one to the oak!”
Several heartbeats later, I reach up to slap a low-hanging branch at exactly the same time Wyatt does.
I still yell, “I win!”
“No, ma’am, you did not. I did.”
Wyatt is breathing hard as he circles around the oak’s wide trunk to face me. I can see the sweat glistening on his forehead and a slice of thick, well-muscled neck that peeks through his bandana.
I guide Penny forward, holding out my hand as I rub my thumb against the tips of my fingers. “I’ll take my money now.”
“You ain’t gettin’ jack because you didn’t win.”
“Don’t think I won’t reach inside that pocket myself.” I nod at his jeans.
He lifts his eyebrows. “I’d like to see you try.”
With a speed that startles both of us, I reach over and shove my fingers inside his pocket. The denim is soft, warm from the sun. He grabs my wrist and pulls out my hand, but when I try to pull back my arm, he refuses to let me go.
“Stop,” I wheeze, my sides seizing with laughter .
“I know what you’re really after.”
“What’s that?”
“A li’l bit of this”—he guides my hand to his chest, then moves it lower over his belly, lower , as he fights a fit of giggles—“and this.”
I feel his abdominal muscles bunching as he laughs. He’s so solid here, so broad and hard.
Somebody pinch me. I still can’t get over the fact that I’m able to touch him like this.
I lift my hand a little and curl my fingers, tickling him, and he immediately twists in the saddle as he gasps for air. Seeing him laugh this hard makes me laugh hard. So hard that I can’t breathe.
“You knew,” I manage, “I’d do this. How did you”—I gasp—“forget how ticklish you are?”
“Because—” A beat passes. Another. “Bein’ around you—makes it hard to think—sometimes.”
My fingers go still. So does everything inside me as Wyatt’s eyes lock on mine.
A breeze ruffles the long, shaggy hair at his neck. He’s close enough that I can see the copper threads in his beard.
I don’t realize I’m staring at his mouth until that mouth gets closer.
Much, much closer.
Wyatt’s about to kiss me, isn’t he? My pulse riots, and my lips tingle, and then?—
“Hel lo , friends.”
Wyatt and I immediately fall back at the sound of Sawyer’s voice. I have no idea how we didn’t hear him before, seeing as he’s on horseback trotting toward us. Ella, his three-year-old daughter, sits in front of him in the saddle. She’s wearing a pink riding helmet that matches her pink boots.
“Morning, Sawyer.” I smile at his daughter. “And good morning, Ella. We were just…coming to find y’all. ”
Sawyer’s lips twitch. “That so?”
“Ella ride with Uncle Wy?” The little girl reaches out for Wyatt. “Ella loves him.”
“Uncle Wy looks like he’s busy trying to get someone else to ride him.” Sawyer clears his throat. “I mean, ride with him.”
“Can you not?” A flush works its way up Wyatt’s neck.
Sawyer looks at me. “Only because I like Sally so much. Sorry if we interrupted y’all.”
“You didn’t interrupt anything,” I reply far too brightly. “Wyatt owes me money, so?—”
“She tried to steal it by digging in my pocket.”
Sawyer grins. “There’s a joke in there about pockets and rockets, but I won’t make it since there are children present.”
“I hate you,” Wyatt says wearily.
Ella kicks her feet, still holding out her hands. “Ella loves you!”
“Right! How could I forget?” Wyatt guides his horse toward Sawyer. With a small grunt, he lifts Ella out of Sawyer’s saddle, pressing a noisy kiss to her cheek before settling her on his own saddle. “I love you too, Ellie Belly Boo.”
My pulse hiccups. Because Wyatt isn’t hot enough as it is. Now he’s got to go and be adorable with his niece. I swear to God, I’m going to burst into flames before Wyatt and I so much as undo a single button on each other’s clothes.
“Sally and I were going to check out the herd,” Wyatt says. “Y’all want to join?”
“That’s where we were headed too. That little sleepyhead”—Sawyer nods at Ella—“didn’t wake up until after seven.”
Wyatt curls his arms around her. “You needed your beauty rest, didn’t you?”
“Go, go.” Ella kicks her feet.
Wyatt laughs. “All right, all right, we’ll go. You good, Sunshine?” He looks at me .
My mouth has gone dry. I swallow. I wish he’d stop being so relentless today. First the honesty over coffee, then the race and the laughter. The almost kiss and the sweetness with Ella. And now this, him checking in on me, making sure I’m okay after his brother almost caught us during that almost kiss.
Wyatt Rivers would make a really fucking great boyfriend.
Which doesn’t compute because I don’t think the man has ever had a monogamous relationship in his life. Only he asked me not to hook up with anyone else, didn’t he? Which means we are, indeed, monogamous.
My heart swells at the idea, even as I silently chastise myself for reading too much into it. Yeah, we’re monogamous in that we’re not sleeping with other people. But are we in a relationship?
“I’m good.”
We ride for another twenty minutes or so. I smell and hear the herd before we see it. That’s what fifteen thousand head of cattle will do—the ground trembles, the air ripe with lowing and the scent of manure.
We crest a hill, and the breath leaves my lungs when I take in the view. Texas Hill Country stretches out before us in all its autumn glory. The pale earth is set alight by the colorful remaining foliage that clings to the trees. The Colorado River is just visible in the distance, a thick braid of deep blue water that reflects the more ardent blue of a clear, wide-open sky.
And then there’s the herd, cattle as far as the eye can see. Brown cows, black cows, spotted cows. Longhorns and Angus. Some are huge; others are still young, less than a year old. I can pick out the pregnant heifers by their full udders and the way their bellies bow out, making them look like walking barrels on legs.
“The moo-moos!” Ella shrieks, pointing.
Wyatt tilts his head, shielding Ella’s face from the sun with his hat. “Should we go see them? ”
“Go, go,” she replies.
He taps his cheek. “Only if you give Uncle Wy a kiss.”
Grinning, Ella kisses his chin, then scrunches her nose. “You scratchy, like Daddy.”
Don’t I know it.
My face felt a little raw this morning. Mom even commented on how red my throat was when I came downstairs. I had to scramble to make up some excuse about an allergic reaction to my new face wash.
I am so, so ready to have my own place again. I just wish my next apartment weren’t in Ithaca, New York.
Really, I wish my next apartment were here instead, and that I was renting it with a certain cowboy.
Wyatt takes the lead down the hill while Sawyer and I follow several paces behind.
“Looked like you and Wyatt had a good time last night.” Sawyer keeps his voice low. “You know he told me?—”
“I know.” I’m blushing again. “I get it, Sawyer. It’s really weird that we’re pretending to date. But Wyatt’s doing me a solid, which I appreciate.”
“Y’all are awful good at pretending.”
I shrug. “We know each other well, which helps.”
“Right. And you wouldn’t consider actually dating my brother because…”
My face is burning . “Because Wyatt is Wyatt. He’s not interested in dating anyone. Least of all me.”
Sawyer turns to look at his brother. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I think Wyatt does want to be with someone. He wants to settle down. He’s just afraid to put his heart out there after what happened with our parents.”
My own heart twists. “That makes sense. No one wants to experience that kind of pain—the loss—again.”
“You bring the best out in him, you know. He’s always happiest after hanging out with Sally Powell. That’s how it was with him and Mom. They were tight, two peas in a pod with their books and their sweet teeth. Sweet tooths? What’s the plural there?”
I laugh. “No clue.”
“I need to ask Cash. Point being, I don’t think he’s ever let anyone get close since she died. Anyone except you.”
I glance at the cowboy in question. Wyatt’s holding the reins in one hand, like he always does, his other arm wrapped around Ella. He’s leaning down, saying something in her ear, and I can just hear her giggle over the sounds of the herd.
My eyes sting. Blinking, I wipe my nose.
“You all right?” Sawyer asks. “I didn’t mean?—”
“Please don’t apologize. Thank you for saying that. I just—sometimes I forget how well y’all love each other. How well y’all know each other.”
Sawyer smiles. “We know you too, Sally. We love you too.”
Shit, now I’m really going to cry. One of the million reasons why I will always love Hartsville—being known the way Sawyer describes.
Outside of this small town—at least in the places I’ve lived—so few people care to even say hello, much less get to know you as a person. There’s a sense of community here I haven’t found anywhere else.
I’m sure it exists in other places. But I’ll never have the same roots—the same relationships that span decades—that I do here. Maybe that’s why I’m having such a hard time getting excited about being in New York long-term.
“I love y’all too, Sawyer.” And I’m in love with your brother, but I’m still not sure he wants what I want.
I’m still not sure there’s a way for us to be together, even if Wyatt feels the way Sawyer says he does.
“Just don’t automatically take Wyatt out of the running, is all I’m asking,” Sawyer says.
I furrow my brow. “Out of the running?”
But then we’re at the bottom of the hill, and the shouts of the cowboys who are already out here drown out any other sound. I’m grateful for the distraction, even though I’m dying to continue this conversation with Sawyer.
It’s easy to fall into cowgirl mode once we’re riding among the herd. I love using my body this way; I’m going to sleep like a baby tonight. Muscle memory comes back full force, and I’m able to help Wyatt cut a few lagging heifers from the herd. Penny has great cow sense—meaning she can recognize the cows’ movements and respond accordingly—which makes my job much easier.
I hop off my horse to examine the heifers while Wyatt and Ella stay on horseback and keep the heifers separated from the herd.
“These mamas are just carrying around a lot of baby,” I say, getting back on the saddle. “Y’all got some healthy calves coming.”
Wyatt grins at me before turning to his niece. “You ready for some baby cows, Ella?”
Ella doesn’t respond. Instead, she glances between Wyatt and me, her big blue eyes wide with curiosity. Almost like she’s picking up on the tight but happy energy between us.
An image flashes across my thoughts—another blue-eyed baby, this one with a shock of dark hair, like mine.
What the actual fuck?
I urge Penny into motion, willing myself to forget whatever the hell that was.
Wyatt and Ella stay beside me as the sun climbs in the sky. Wyatt points out several cows my dad and I recently treated. Each one appears to be thriving. We talk about the brush and the grasses growing in the pasture, and Wyatt asks which plants he should add or subtract to make the pasture more nutritious for the herd.
“You ain’t even been in Texas for the past twelve years, but of course you know the answer to that question,” Wyatt says after I gave him a list of plant species native to the area that the cows might like.
I shrug. “I told you I miss it here. Sometimes, when I’m really homesick, I research this stuff for fun.”
“Christ, you really have missed it then.”
“I do. A lot.”
“But less than you used to, right?”
“No.” I shake my head. “More.”
Wyatt narrows his eyes. He’s quiet for a beat, careful to keep Ella upright while she munches on a granola bar Sawyer gave her for snack time on the go.
“Well,” Wyatt says, “it’ll get better.”
That’s just it—I don’t think it will get better. I’ll always miss days like this, time spent with my favorite people in the world, in my favorite place in the world.
I’ll always miss Wyatt. And after what Sawyer said…
I wonder if Wyatt will miss me too.