My Kind Of Crazy
CASH
DECEMBER
Sweat started to coat my brow as I got Playboy all tacked up.
“I thought y’all would be gettin’ the place ready for tonight.” My dad’s gruff voice accompanied the scuff of his boots and the clink of his spurs.
“Mama came and cleaned yesterday and she’s headin’ over in a bit to decorate. God knows she don’t want me there helpin’ her.”
Dad nodded and let out a chuckle.
Tonight was my birthday party—Cashmas, if you will.
Even though my actual birthday was on Christmas day, it was easier to do something like this on a weekend.
And being the wonderful woman she was, Mama always went all out for it.
Decorations, food, desserts, everything.
I’d dubbed this year’s theme as inappropriate ugly Christmas sweaters, and I was pretty damn positive I was gonna win it.
But before that, Ollie needed practice, and with the rebuild on the barn still going on back at the ranch, we had to use Dad’s roping arena still.
We were just a week out from the competition and much like I was confident about winning the ugly Christmas sweater contest tonight, I knew she had it in her to win it.
And since she wasn’t avoiding me for the moment, I was going to take advantage of any chance to see her as often as I could.
She was back to her usual self…mostly. There was something lurking beneath the surface that she wouldn’t talk about though. It scared me a bit, not going to lie. Not that I’d say anything to her. Last thing I wanted was to scare her off.
Dad’s gaze traveled over me. “So, what all are we doin’ today?
How many cows do I need to go round up?” he asked, sipping from his stainless steel coffee mug that said Bad to the bone on it with his brand etched into the surface—a present from Cheyenne that she’d made for him for his birthday.
He used it all the damn time. You’d think he and Mama didn’t have any other cups in the house beside that one.
“I’d say bring about ten…fifteen? I’m thinkin’ we set it up today like Ollie’s actually competin’. Give her a taste of what it’s gonna be like.”
As if on cue, a familiar black flat-bed dually puttered toward us down the tree-lined drive pulling a stock trailer behind it—the Broken Creek Ranch emblem stuck to the side of the truck.
Ollie’s sunglasses stare met mine as she slowed to a stop and rolled down the window.
“God, do you cowboys do anything all day other than circle jerk?”
Dad burst into a fit of laughter, damn near spewing his coffee all over. Ryder’s lips pulled up into an easy grin. Even Maverick smiled at that.
“Don’t act like you don’t wanna join,” I said, pulling my sunglasses down and offering her a wink.
Ollie flashed me a playful scowl and flipped me off.
My lips tugged upward. “Yeah, I know I’m number one, sugar.”
A cackle escaped her as she tossed her head back.
It was funny and somehow oddly adorable that such a god awful sound could come out of someone so damn hot.
She didn’t do it all the time, but when she truly laughed, when that brilliant, bright grin tugged on those perfect lips…
fuck, she was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen.
“Careful, Big Daddy, don’t come in your pants.” She pulled down her glasses and nodded toward me, a devious grin on her face. “I can see your hard-on from here.”
Fuck. She wasn’t too far off. I was rock hard for her already. The minute I saw her I was raring to go. It didn’t help that we hadn’t gone further on Tuesday night. I’d had perpetual blue balls the past few days. And it’s not like I hadn’t taken measures to get rid of them.
There was just something irresistible about this damn, little she-devil. I couldn’t get enough of her. I thought of Dad’s words from the other day. “After a while, I realized I wasn’t after a roll in the hay with her. I was after her.”
Maybe the old bastard wasn’t too far off…not that I was ready to admit that.
Coffee sprayed through the air, followed by my dad’s choked coughs, as well as both Mav and Ryder’s howls of laughter.
Ollie bit her lip, then flashed me a triumphant grin before easing the truck forward to go park and unload her horse.
A spark of excitement flickered in my chest. Today was gonna be fun. Playful Ollie was always a riot.
Dad recovered enough to clap me on the shoulder. “She might just be more crass than you, dipshit.”
Ryder snapped his fingers just then, a look of astonishment lighting his dark gaze. “Wait…I just realized somethin’. It’s no wonder you’re so fuckin into her.” He glanced between where she’d just parked and me. “She’s you.”
I frowned. “The fuck are you talkin’ about?”
“No, hear me out. She’s just as fuckin’ outspoken, just as cocky, just as fuckin’ obnoxiously good lookin’ as you. Y’all are one in the same. You’re the same person, basically.”
Maverick nodded in agreement, a rare, genuine smile on his lips.
Dad laughed once more, and dread coiled in my stomach. Knowing him, he’d have some smartass shit to say. “So if y’all are the same…when you hook up, do you fuck her or does she fuck you?”
Yep, the dread was definitely warranted. I shook my head and groaned. Something about Ollie threw me off my game. I was usually the slick one, the one who always had a witty response. I wasn’t used to someone being able to play my games better than me.
I opened my mouth to respond but her smoky, bedroom voice beat me to it. “Wouldn’t you fuckers like to know.”
She walked, no, she fucking sauntered—those tattooed hips of hers sashaying side to side—toward us. And if my cock wasn’t hard a few minutes ago, it sure as hell was now.
She wore a white crop top. An interesting, uncharacteristic choice.
I only ever saw her in black, a couple shades of grey, and a random pop of red.
The shirt’s fabric was so thin it showed the design of her bra underneath.
Was that cheetah print? I pulled down my glasses to the tip of my nose. Fuck me, man, it sure was.
Her hair was braided back off her face and she wore her favorite red Coors hat.
Her Levi’s hugged her curves in all the right places and left her tattoos on full display, along with the skeleton hands gripping her hips.
I bet if she crouched down right now, we’d all see the words on her tramp stamp that had twin arrows pointing to the hands that said “hold tight.” Of all her tattoos, that one was my favorite.
Right now, I was really damn jealous of those skeleton hands.
Get it together, Big Daddy.
I was trying to, but since Tuesday night I’d been going fucking crazy for her. To be fair, I had been for a while now, but the fact that I’d told her how I felt…and she’d stayed. Well, that changed things. Then my dad had come outside and cockblocked us, putting a pause on anything else happening.
“So,” she asked, “what’s the plan for today?”
Dad spoke before I could. “Go warm up that crazy mare of yours. The boys and I will go get us some cows.”
I glared at him from behind my glasses. “I’ll stay. Cason should be out any minute with Peckerhead. Take him instead. Don’t need all of us to get a dozen cattle.”
“No, you’re comin’ with me.” Dad’s lips turned upward in a vicious grin as if he knew exactly why I wanted to stay behind. “The kid can stay with Ollie.”
What a goddamn cockblock.
I growled but expelled a sigh with an eye roll. He’d keep pulling bullshit reasons from his asshole if I kept arguing. Might as well just give in. “Alright. Fine. Y’all head out. I’ll catch up, I gotta finish tackin’ up Playboy.”
Not a complete lie.
Dad let out a huff of disbelieving laughter. “Hurry up.”
The group broke up, Dad, Maverick, and Ryder making their way to their horses tied up against the arena’s pipe-stall fence.
I turned to Ollie, who smirked up at me. “Aw, you gonna miss me, Big Daddy?”
“I think you got that backwards, sugar.” I offered her a grin and headed over for the paper sack I had over by Playboy’s tack. “Here, catch.”
She snatched the bag out of the air and clutched it to her chest, a ravenous look on her face. “Are these what I think they are?” she crooned.
“What do you think?” I smirked, striding for Playboy as she shoved a hand into the bag and pulled out one of the chocolate croissants I’d brought her this morning. She reminded me of my mom in that way. Her obsession with sweets, particularly baked goods and chocolate. Anything chocolate.
I grabbed Playboy’s saddle pad from the saddle rack it rested against and placed it on his back.
I could feel her gaze on me the whole time, searing me with its intensity.
Desire thrummed through my veins, fueling my hard-on and making everything real damn difficult.
I regretted inviting Maverick, Ryder, and Cason this morning.
It could have just been her and I after Dad fucked off and left us alone.
We could have disappeared into the bunkhouse, or, hell, even the damn barn.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Thank you,” she all but hummed as she came over to lean against the side of the barn a few feet away from me. Her citrusy scent filled my nose and I had to bite back a groan as I glanced at her. She was sucking chocolate off her fingertips, and fuck, but I wished she was sucking something else.
God, I knew I was being pathetic. I needed to get my shit together but she was so. damn. hot.
“Shit, you’re already done with them?” I asked, hoisting Playboy’s saddle up onto his back before cinching him up.
“What?” She shrugged when I turned to look at her. “They’re really fucking good… thank you, by the way.”
I couldn’t help but grin. I wasn’t a cook.
Wasn’t a baker. I could barely figure out how to turn on a damn barbecue, but I’d learned how to make these for her.
Not as some big grand gesture, but more because if I bought her chocolate croissants every damn time I saw her, I’d be burning a hole in my pocket.
It was economical. Responsible of me to do this.
At least that’s what I told myself.