Chapter 16
James
We’re swinging by Jo’s on our way to Colorado Springs. Do me a favor. When we order coffee, make Adam’s decaf.
Chloe
Decaf?! That’s a violation of the Barista’s Oath, babe.
James
Just do it.
Chloe
Fine. But in return, I want you to do something for me.
James
What”s that?
Chloe
Save a horse, James. Save so many horses.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Adam said.
The apologetic look on the hotel receptionist’s face indicated that he was not, in fact, kidding. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re booked solid for the rodeo. As I explained on the phone when Mr. Hale made the reservation, this is the last room available. You are welcome to try your luck at other hotels, of course.”
“This is fine,” I said hastily. No way was I going to risk forfeiting the only bed left in Colorado Springs. Would it be easy sleeping next to the man I wanted to climb like a wisteria vine? No. But I would be a professional about it if it killed me. I needed to focus on why we were here, that’s all.
“Fucking Brax,” Adam muttered. “Nice of him to give us a head’s up.”
Brax was no idiot. “So you could yell at him for something outside his control?” I asked.
“Exactly.”
He was rumpled from his two-and-a-half-hour nap. His hair stuck up at weird angles and there was a red crease along his right cheekbone from where his head had fallen against the seatbelt. I grinned.
He had fought it, but I had won. The decaf coffee Chloe had handed him with a bored expression that gave nothing away hadn’t been up to the task of keeping him awake when I was determined to put him to sleep. With my Willie Nelson playlist crooning through the car speakers, the back windows rolled down to let in the warm, dry breeze, and me droning on about hoof oil, Adam was dead asleep in thirty minutes.
The poor man never stood a chance.
“Let’s drop our bags in our room and go meet Zack for dinner,” I suggested. Zack had texted Adam shortly before he passed out. We were meeting him for dinner tonight. Tomorrow he had the roping event and then the next day was his bareback bronc ride. He was a top contender for both.
We were on the twelfth floor with a great view overlooking the city. In the distance, enormous red rock formations jutted toward the sky.
“Wow,” I breathed. I dropped my bag next to the bed and went straight to the window.
Adam peered out the window from behind me. “Garden of the Gods. We can go Sunday before we head back home if we have time.”
I couldn’t get enough of the way the setting sun made the rocks glow like fresh lava. “We’ll make time,” I promised myself.
I turned away from the window to take in the rest of the room. One queen-size bed. A desk with a rolling chair. No couch.
Welp.
“I’ll take the floor,” Adam said.
“Okay,” I said agreeably, even though I would never in a million years do that to him. The carpet felt thick enough under my feet, but under his back, it might as well be a plank of wood. Anyway, all hotels were a little bit gross, even the nice ones. You could boil sheets. You couldn’t boil a carpet.
But there was no point in having the same fight twice. We could save that conversation for after dinner.
“I’m going to change in the bathroom,” I said. I had taken a quick shower before we hit the road, so I didn’t smell like a horse, but I was wearing my standard road trip outfit of leggings and an old Maren Morris tee shirt that proclaimed me a “lunatic country music person.”
I brought my bag into the bathroom. “Casual or fancy?” I hollered through the closed door.
“Casual,” he called back.
“Good. I didn’t bring a lot of fancy.”
I settled for a sundress with a flirty hem that hit me just above the knees. It was meant to hit around mid-thigh, but given my height issues, things tended to run long on me. The elevation in Colorado Springs meant even summer nights could be chilly, so I paired that with a chunky cream-colored cardigan with big wood buttons. After a swipe of mascara and a slick of pink lipstick, I walked out of the bathroom barefoot.
His gaze raked over me, quick and greedy, before he wrenched his eyes away, his mouth flattening into a grim line. “Shoes on, buttercup,” he growled. “Let’s go.”
“Okay,” I said, like his hungry perusal of my body hadn’t turned my insides into something hot and liquid. Totally chill and unaffected—that was me.
Lies. All lies.
I grabbed my socks and boots and shoved my feet into them. “I’m ready.”
Zack Hale was the polar opposite of his older brother. Where Adam was scowls and grunts, Zack was smiles and charm. Like his brothers, he had the Hale blue eyes and jawline that could rival the Rocky Mountains for rugged strength. But his hair was a lighter brown, shot through with warm honey, and he had a dimple that promised a good time.
And good lord, the man was a flirt.
“Heard you had some trouble at the hotel,” Zack said as we all sat down at a corner booth. His blue eyes were the picture of faux concern. “You can shack up with me for the night.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather take the floor than share a bed with you,” Adam said drily. “I spent enough nights sleeping in a tent with you to know you kick like a donkey.”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Zack said. “The offer was for James.”
Adam’s face darkened like a storm moving over the mountains. Zack leaned back and flashed me a wink, clearly delighted at having gotten under his brother’s skin.
“Thanks,” I said. “But I’m happy where I am.”
Zack’s eyebrows shot up. My cheeks heated as I realized he took my words to mean I was happy to sleep with Adam. “Is that so?” he smirked.
“For fuck’s sake, Zack,” Adam said, exasperated. “I’m taking the floor.”
“I didn’t even have to rock, paper, scissors him for the bed,” I chimed in. “He was a perfect gentleman about it.”
A cowboy in the streets, a beast in the sheets.
Maybe Chloe had it right. Too bad I was never going to find out. I hid my blush behind a sip of my vodka soda. Damn Chloe and her agenda to get me laid. When I had opened the white paper bag she had given us with our coffee, I had found a handful of condoms in there with the muffins. Fortunately, I had managed to sneak them into my bag before Adam could see.
I had no intention of saving a horse this weekend. Especially not with a cowboy who was still hung up on his deceased ex-wife.
We made it an early night—Zack, for all his bad boy vibes, took his rodeo work seriously and needed his sleep—and were back in our room by 9:30. I claimed the bathroom first to brush my teeth and change into my pajamas, which consisted of a flimsy tee shirt and tiny shorts. I kept my sports bra on, even though I was dying to shed it.
By the time I was ready for bed, Adam had put a pillow and blanket on the floor. The second he headed into the bathroom, I returned them to the bed.
Predictably, he scowled when he saw what I had done. “James—”
“Hear me out.” I held up a hand. “If waking up with a sore back is something you enjoy, fine. Sleep on the floor. I won’t stop you. But if you’re doing it to save my reputation or for whatever stupid notions of chivalry are in your brain, just don’t. We’re adults. I can sleep next to you the same way I would sleep next to Chloe if this happened. I trust you.”
“I’m taking the floor,” he ground out.
My eyes narrowed. Maybe this wasn’t about whether I trusted him. Maybe he didn’t trust me. “Is this about Emily?”
He stared at me like I was speaking gibberish. “What?”
“Because of what happened in your office. You think I can’t keep my hands to myself? That’s ridiculous. It doesn’t matter that you look like that”—I gestured wildly at his stupidly muscular body—“and it doesn’t matter that kissing you pretty much melted all my brain cells. I understand that no means no.”
He kept right on staring at me while I babbled like an idiot.
“I’m not worried about you, James. I’m worried about me. Because you’re wearing those sexy fucking shorts and seventy percent of your body is wearing nothing at all. That’s a lot of uncovered skin and at some point, that skin is going to come into contact with my skin.”
“Oh,” I said.
“That’s not even the worst part.”
“What’s the worst part?” I asked.
“When that happens, I’m going to do the right thing. I’m going to keep my hands to myself. And fuck, that’s going to hurt.”
“Oh,” I sighed.
“Yeah,” he said. “Oh.” He looked at the floor and shook his head. “I guess I’d rather have an aching cock than an aching back. Get in bed, buttercup.”
I scooted under the covers, and he came in after me, flicking out the light of the bedside table lamp as we settled in.
“James,” he said suddenly. “That kiss in my office, that wasn’t about Emily, either.”
I rolled on my side to face him, but I couldn’t make out his expression in the dark. “It wasn’t?”
“No. I kissed you because I was cold, and you are the fucking sun.”
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.
But I could stretch my hand to find his in the darkness between us. Twine my fingers with his.
So that’s what I did.