Chapter 15
Kayla
I glare angrily in my rearview mirror at the jackass behind me.
He’s not riding my ass, his lights aren’t blinding me, and he’s acting like a law-abiding citizen.
It’s not his driving that makes him a jackass.
It’s his stubborn, big ass head that feels the need to butt in where it’s not welcome. Like on my date.
The first date I’ve had in a long time.
And he just saunters in, acting like he belongs there, pulling out a chair like he was invited. “Fucking asshole,” I mutter, gripping the wheel tighter as I turn onto the gravel driveway. “I know you,” I mimic, acting like a child because I can. No one is here to witness it, so it’s fair game.
My lights flicker with every bump I hit, and Colter follows closely behind in his truck. Each time we hit a bump, I look back at the flashing lights.
The sun’s set by now, meaning our headlights are the only thing lighting the driveway. For a moment, I’m actually thankful Colt insisted on waiting for me so that he could follow me home. His lights are way better than mine.
Then I remember how he treated Tanner tonight, and how he treated me, and I’m angry again.
Fucking buffoon.
I’m just near the bend in the road that separates the Bravermans' ranch from our ranch when I come across my loyal roadblock.
“Not tonight, Brutus,” I plead with the bull, leaning out the window.
My air conditioning bit the dust a few days ago, so the only way I get any airflow is if I leave my windows down.
Sometimes it comes in handy. Sometimes it makes my hair impossible to brush.
“I just want to go home and soak in the tub.”
The giant animal stands in the middle of the road, blocking the only way to the house. He huffs, as if I’m a problem and he’s annoyed with me. Last I checked, I wasn’t the one standing in the middle of the fucking road.
Colt’s truck pulls off the road behind me, dipping down into the ditch as he navigates around me.
Brutus eyes the truck, taking a few steps to the side so that he’s standing in front of both my car and a chunk of the ditch, effectively blocking off any path we could take around him.
He huffs again, pawing at the ground and lowering his head as if he’s about the charge.
“What the fuck?” I let out a groan, dropping my head down to rest on my steering wheel. “Why do you hate me?” Colter honks his horn, and for a moment, I think Brutus is going to ram his truck just as a fuck you.
“I think he’s doing this on purpose!” Colter calls over his engine, leaning over the console so that he can yell out the passenger side window.
He’s rolled the sleeves of his black dress shirt up to his elbows because, of course, he has.
He probably doesn’t even know it makes him 10x more attractive.
His shirt is tight against his chest, and the combination makes me instantly forget why I’m mad at him.
“He must want something,” I call back, eyeing the beast. He’s a pretty reasonable bull, more reasonable than the man in the truck beside me, so that’s gotta be good for something.
“Hey, Brutus. What do you need, Bud?” The bull looks at me, then looks at Colt, then looks back at me.
“Am I supposed to know what that means?” I ask Colt, wondering if he understood the message.
“No, Kayla,” Colt drawls. “He’s a bull. He doesn’t understand the English language.” I know he thinks that he thinks that, but I saw his face when I asked Brutus to move the first time. He knows this bull understands me.
“Fine, then what are we supposed to do?” I ask, yelling a little over the sound of our engines.
“Jake is still out with Finn, so we’ll have to wait.”
“You have like 20 working hands on this ranch, call one of them!”
“It’s after hours, I’m not bothering them. Brutus will move when he’s good and ready.”
“You’re kidding me,” I huff. I know for a fact that Colt has no qualms about waking up his employees to do their jobs. They’re paid well for it. He’s just being difficult cause he’s in a bad mood.
“What? Am I not good company, Princess?”
“Don’t call me that,” I snap, my upper lip raising a little bit.
“Looks like a princess. Sounds like a princess.”
“Fuck you, Colt,” I grind out despite the little jolt of flattery that shoots through me.
He thinks I look like a princess.
He thinks I sound like a princess.
What an ass.
“How was the rest of your date with Tanner?” He asks, completely ignoring the fact that I’m clearly mad at him. He either has the emotional intelligence level of his 8-year-old son, or he’s purposely trying to piss me off.
“It was fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Well, he wasn’t too interested in talking after we got interrupted by a huge barbarian.”
“A barbarian?”
“Yeah, one who doesn’t use his brain.” I turn back to look at him through his truck window. He rubs at the smile on his face, nodding his head.
“Okay, I was a bit of a dick,” he nods, stating the obvious. “I could have handled that better.”
“Yeah. You are a dick.” Brutus huffs again, pawing at the dirt road, and I watch him out of the corner of my eye. Last thing I need is an angry bull ramming my tiny little car. I don’t think she’d survive that, she can barely even handle the dirt roads.
“I’m sorry,” he swallows the words like they’re glass shards.
“Thank you.”
“Are you two going out again?”
“Seriously?”
“Innocent question,” he argues. “I was just making friendly conversation.”
I don’t believe him, but I let him think I do. “No, he’s headed home now. It was only ever gonna be a one-night thing.”
“Right, cause you don’t always date for a forever.”
“Exactly,” I remember telling him that, but honestly, it was just a heat-of-the-moment thing. I’ve never had a one-night stand before, and I’m not exactly looking for one either. But I can never confess that to Colt now. I’ll take it to the grave with me.
Colter’s quiet for a moment, and in that silence I can hear Brutus huffing again, scuffing his hoof against the dirt like he’s winding up for a charge. I glance his way and catch the glint of moonlight in his eye. He’s watching us.
“I think he’s judging us,” I mutter, folding my arms over the steering wheel and glancing sideways at Colt’s truck.
Colter chuckles, that low, gravelly sound that gets stuck under my skin. “He probably is. He doesn’t have to work hard to get the ladies. This whole dating thing is trivial to him.”
“Lucky him,” I grumble quietly, glaring at the bull.
A long pause settles between us. I hear Colt shift in his truck, the creak of his seat as he leans out the window a little farther.
“Listen,” he says, voice softer now. “I wasn’t trying to screw up your night.
I saw you with him and—hell, Kayla, I just reacted.
Poorly.” I glance over again. He’s got his hand in his hair, mussing it up, the tight line of his shoulders just visible in the glow of his dashboard. He looks tired. And guilty.
“You didn’t just react poorly,” I say, softer than before. “You acted like an entitled prick.”
“I know. I don’t want to see you with anyone else,” he says, quick like he’s afraid he won’t say it if he pauses. “I don’t like it. I know that’s not fair. Hell, maybe I’ve got no right, but I’m saying it anyway.”
I blink hard at the windshield. “You don’t get to only be interested when someone else is, Colter. I’m not some toy on the playground.”
“I know you’re not.” He sighs, long and low. “You’re someone I’m trying real hard not to send running.”
Silence stretches again, this one less angry and more fragile.
Brutus lets out a loud, bored grunt. His massive body shifts, and he takes a lazy step toward the fence line. We both watch him.
“You think that’s his version of clapping?” I ask, eyes tracking the bull as he heads, finally, back toward his pasture.
“He was probably waiting to see if I’d actually say something decent,” Colt mutters, watching too.
I exhale, a puff of amusement and disbelief. “Well, shit. Maybe I should keep him around for all our future arguments.”
“Only if he promises not to ram my truck,” Colt says, nudging his door open. He walks over, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, face unreadable in the headlights.
I open my window a little farther, the gravel crunching under his boots as he stops beside my door.
“Let’s go for a ride tomorrow. Just us. No interruptions.” I study Colt’s face, debating.
“I don’t know how to ride,” I say, surprising us both.
“It’ll be your first riding lesson then,” he smiles down at me.
“Fine. But if you pull that caveman crap again, I’m siccing the bull on you.”
Colter’s grin spreads, all teeth and relief. “Deal.”
Brutus gives one last snort behind us, then slips through the open gate like this has been his plan all along. And somehow, with one stubborn bull and a late-night standoff, I realize I’m not as mad as I was ten minutes ago.
Castlebrook Town Crier Text Chain
Sue Cruthkins
Heads up. Bear in area.
I wake up fairly early on Saturday. Maybe it’s the excitement of my first horseback riding lesson. Maybe it’s the excitement of spending the day with Colter. I don’t know, but either way I’m just too wired to sleep.
“Good morning,” Colter saunters into the kitchen, dressed in a faded pair of Wranglers. I know they’re Wranglers cause my gaze is immediately drawn to his ass, where the W is stitched into the back pockets.
“Morning,” I take a sip from my coffee, hiding my smile. “You have no flavored creamer.”
“What do you mean? I have half and half.”
“That’s not flavored,” I argue. “You need the Starbucks creamer, like the White Mocha flavor.”
“Seriously?” He wrinkles his nose, like the idea of white chocolate in your coffee is disgusting. He pours himself his own cup of coffee, black and bitter, and pulls out the chair beside me.
“Have you ever even tried it?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had Starbucks before, no. Not like we have one in Castlebrook. Or even in Malta.”