Chapter 8 – Catalina #4
Warmth in his skin. Broad shoulders filling the chair.
Every brush of his kneecap against mine is lighting a fuse I don’t want to acknowledge.
That’s when I realize he’s been touching me subtly all night.
A hand on my back, a knee on mine. And normally I’d be recoiling.
Normally, I'd be noticing. But for some reason I’m not.
I don’t mind it. I like it. It’s intimate without being over the top. It feels natural.
“The reason I got into bull riding…” he begins.
“You said it was because of riding horses?”
“…Yes.” He meets my stare. “And because I wasn’t good at anything else.”
“I’m sure that’s not possible.”
He pauses again, then leans back like he’s bracing himself.
“I have dyslexia. Found out young. I’d switch numbers and letters in all my homework.
Straight D student. Could hardly pass second grade.
Grandma did the work with me so I wouldn’t get held back, and I cheated on most of my tests.
I’m not proud of it. It was just the only way I could finish school. ”
My lips part. It’s not out of pity, but surprise. Because there’s something raw in his voice, stripped down and unguarded in a way I’ve never heard from him.
He takes a drink of water, his throat working as he swallows. I shouldn’t be staring at the way it moves, or at the faint line of sweat that’s across his forehead because of how warm it is out here. Even his forehead sweat is attractive. I notice the slight bounce of his leg.
He’s nervous?
“It’s why I don’t check the scoreboard after my rides,” he continues.
“I’ll mess up the numbers. Don’t want to get excited or pissed for no reason.
It’s partly why I don’t take phone numbers when women offer.
It’s why I barely text. You basically nailed it when you called me out.
Couldn’t cut it as a carpenter, couldn’t cut it as a businessman, couldn’t cut it as anything but the guy who gets on the back of a bull that wants to kill him and rides for eight seconds.
Because that’s the only thing that I was good at. ”
“I’m sorry… for before. I was rude about you riding. It was—”
He shakes his head. “I’m sure it all looks pretty foolish from the outside, riding an animal that you purposely piss off every day for sport.”
I drop my gaze, but his knee nudges mine again.
“Hey. Don’t sweat it,” he says with a smile when I look up at him.
It's playful, flirty, something that I've never experienced before. It’s also really mature how he just lets it all go. And the most dangerous part is that it works. Him touching me doesn’t bother me. It settles something I didn’t know was restless.
For a guy who I don’t agree with, I’m surprisingly calm around him.
“Dyslexia doesn’t mean you can’t do something other than bull riding. It’s very common.”
He smiles softly. “I know. But school was so hard for me, and sitting still was difficult. Bull riding’s the only thing that’s ever made sense.”
He nudges my knee again. This time leaving his leg pressed up against mine.
“You like touching,” I say, my eyes staring at where we’re connected.
A slow grin unfolds on his face. “That’s not a secret. I’m from the South. We love hugs. I love handholding. I love kissing. I love…” His eyes darken, the rest of the sentence melts into heat between us.
Fucking? Was he going to say fucking? I bet he does love fucking. I bet he’s good at it, too.
I clear my throat. “You don’t strike me as someone who wants marriage and kids.”
“You don’t know me outside of what you see on the circuit.”
“But you don’t date?”
His grin stretches wider. “Ah, you’ve looked me up?”
“Accidentally. For medical reasons.” It wasn’t for medical reasons. It was late night research on social media because I couldn’t sleep.
He chuckles. “I want that. A family. White picket fence in the mountains of Tennessee or somewhere else a little remote. The whole country song cliché.”
“That’s surprising,” I say quietly. For a beat I try to imagine what Jensen's life would look like married and with kids someday. And all I feel is red, hot jealousy for whoever that woman will be. But that doesn't make any sense. Why would I care?
He leans forward, his hazel eyes flaring with heat so intense it shocks me. “It’s getting late. Let’s go back to my room.”
“You’re going to keep offering that in every city we travel through?” I ask. But there’s no bite in my voice anymore. I want to go back to his room too. My pulse is racing with that realization. I’ve never had a one-night stand before. I want my first to be with Jensen.
He never drops my gaze. “I might.”
“You’re persistent.”
“I know what I want.”
“And what’s that? To sleep with the series doctor? The woman who fixed your heart? Is this some kind of competition? Did you make a bet with the guys that I don’t know about?”
He rubs his jaw, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “There’s no bet, Catalina. You’re telling me it wouldn’t be tempting to sleep with the guy whose heart you stitched back together? I’d let you put your hands on it again. I’d let you listen to it.”
Do I want to have sex with Jensen? Absolutely.
But I know it’s reckless. Stupid. Professional suicide if someone found out from the media.
Especially Craig, Rory, or any of the riders.
But tonight, I want reckless. I want a bad idea.
I’m supposed to be trying new things with this job.
And I want that new thing to be sex with a stranger cowboy.
No strings attached. We do this, and then we never talk about it again.
Our server reappears, asking if we need anything else. I shake my head. “No. He’s paying.”
Jensen laughs and slides them a couple bills, tells him to keep the change, then turns back to me with a look that sends another pulse of heat down my spine.
“So, Doc,” he says softly. “Are we doing this?”
“You only call me Catalina tonight.”
He nods, his grin growing wider like he knows I'm going to agree.
“No one can ever find out," I say firmly.
“No one will know.”
“One time, and then we walk away like it never happened.”
“One time. We walk away.”
I hesitate, because at some point, I’m going to have to have sex again. It might as well be with a guy that I can’t take completely seriously who won’t emotionally destroy me afterward.
Jensen's emotionally aware. Jensen's uncomplicated. Jensen's easy. Jensen doesn’t want anything more from me either. He just wants to sleep with his doctor once.
It’s simple.
I need something simple.
“Fine.” I stand. He stands too. “Let’s go.”
His grin deepens. “Lead the way, Catalina.”