Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
King
From Tennessee, we pushed on until we reached Wisconsin. This road trip isn’t a straight line across the United States. Rather, it’s more of a heartbeat monitor, zigging and zagging, but always carrying us toward our destination.
The drive to the farm should have taken us one day, but Jim demanded we stop in Indiana to see the world’s largest ball of paint, where we each added a layer.
Bennett also added a bit of his mother. We felt it in poor taste to make a roadside attraction part of her eternal rest, but the lad insisted.
None of us had the heart to argue further.
All told, the little side quest added a day to our journey.
It’s not a big deal if the timing is a bit off, but I don’t want to drag out this time with Josie. I just want to enjoy the moments I have left with her. And slay a few more Cattle, of course.
The next event waits at a secret facility in a section of cheese country Jim commandeered many years ago.
Back then, he thought he might take a break from his experiments and try his hand at ranching.
He bought everything he needed—lots of land, a decent head of cattle, and the best cutting horses money could buy.
His interest waned after two weeks. We sold off the cattle and kept the horses and staff. With a little direction, I turned it into a horse farm.
I’m excited for Josie to see the place. My pet name for her actually has nothing to do with her appearance and everything to do with a discussion we had about the merits of a good horse. With her upbringing, she had more horse knowledge than most women.
She is my Black Beauty, the beast who could do it all; the indomitable creature who could stomp its defiant hooves in the face of life. The horse who would not lie down and die.
In a way, it’s even more fitting now. Much like the dark horse, my little chestnut filly has been reunited with the groom who admired her all those years ago.
Granted, Joe Green didn’t want to bend Black Beauty over a table, but my point stands. She’s been returned to me by some twist of fate named Jim, and now I have to figure out what to do with that.
As excited as I am to show her the horses and the ranch, I’m more eager to get out of this RV. Things have been awkward since calling a semi-truce. Once she realized I didn’t fuck Charity, she lost the desire to bite my head off at every turn.
Now we’re left with a far more dangerous emotion between us: desire.
It was the third passenger for all these miles. I still haven’t felt release, and my balls ache. The girl never loses her hunger, no matter how many orgasms I feed her, and the constant need weighs heavy on her as well.
“If you hung me from a rope by my neck, do you think you could get me off before I strangled to death?” she asks as we drive past a few ranch hands raising hay bales into a barn loft.
See what I mean? No matter what’s happening around her, the woman’s brain digs out the innuendo.
“As fun as that sounds, I don’t think it’s anything we should try.”
“Lame,” she mutters. “I bet Blayne would do it.”
My grip tightens on the steering wheel. “What will it take to get that inbred pig farmer out of your head, hmm?”
“First, that’s a harmful stereotype about southerners.
They aren’t all pig farmers. Second, you were the one who always preached about no strings, no commitments, and no problems. I’m merely enjoying the freedom you taught me to enjoy.
” She scoffs and crosses her arms. “Look who’s begging for strings now. ”
“Maybe ‘no strings’ isn’t exactly right,” I say with a shrug. “We had rules of engagement then. We didn’t chase others. We sought pleasure amongst ourselves.”
“Until someone went out for milk and never came back.”
“It wasn’t because of another woman,” I whisper.
She’s quiet for a beat, and then she says, “Fine. Let’s stick to the old rules, then.”
I nearly slam on the brakes, both figurative and literal. What she’s suggesting is terrible. And wonderful. And impossible. The rules we made before were meant to protect both of us, and they failed in horrific ways. They protected no one. She wants us to run ourselves through this machine again?
“What?” she says, sensing that my heels are digging in. “We’re already doing it anyway. You don’t try to kiss me. I let you handle my needs. And I haven’t tried to kill myself.”
“Is that still a concern?” I ask.
“When you have a brain like mine, I don’t think the concern ever really goes away. But I feel safe. As much as I hate to admit it, the killing and lack of inhibitions help.” She peers out the window, and her smile falls. “Yeah, no strings is fine by me.”
Why don’t I believe her?
I shake my head and pull the RV into the field behind the large farmhouse. “Josie, nothing has changed. I can’t stay with you. Once this ends . . . I don’t know what will happen.”
“Exactly. You could decide you want to tie me down, and then I get my big moment where I say fuck you and break your heart.” She sighs and looks at me, a faux plea in her eyes. “Don’t take this away from me, King.”
A single laugh springs out of me. “The day I crumble when you walk away will be a cold day in hell, I assure you. You were the one who pined for a man who never pretended he planned to stay. And now you want to repeat history?”
“I’m not in love with you anymore. I’m over you. So I like to fuck you. So what? It doesn’t mean I’ll crumble when you walk away. I didn’t then, despite what you believe.”
Ouch. Those words sting a part of my heart I didn’t realize still beat.
Now I almost want to prove her wrong.
“Okay, let’s make a bet, then. We’ll keep fucking”—I pin her with a look—“exclusively, and at the end of the trip, we’ll say our goodbyes. But if one of us falls in love at any point, that’s the end. They lose the bet, and they agree to give the other person whatever they want.”
She squints out at the grass and trees. “We need to define what sort of love we’re talking about. I mean, I have love for you—”
“Right,” I say. “I feel the same. But the sort of love I mean—”
“Right,” she says. “It’s different.”
“Right.”
A knock on my door startles me, and we table the discussion for the time being. At least, that’s what I think we’re doing, but her hand rushes toward me.
“Shake on it.”
“Only if you’ll agree to a meeting after dinner where we lay out the finite terms?”
She scoffs and curls her lip. “Dude, why do you always take bets so fucking seriously? It sucks the fun out of it.”
I pull my hand back.
“Okay, fine!” she relents.
I take her hand and give it a shake. “Exclusively!”
But she’s already out the door.
Let her go. I have her promise, and I trust the girl. If nothing else, at the end of the day, she won’t go back on that handshake.
I peer through the window and see Gary grinning up at me. He gives me a wave and waits for me to exit the RV. I kill the engine and climb down.
“I thought that stretch of road would never end,” he says, peering up at me to see if that was okay to say.
“I take it Jim’s made you drive?”
“No, no.” He peers around, then scoots closer, as if he’s about to spill the world’s juiciest secret. “I like Jim a whole lot, but his taste in music . . .”
“Is he on a Cher kick again?”
“I wish.” Gary covers his face and groans. “Bennett gave him a copy of The Chronic 2001 as a gag, but Jim thought it was a gift from the heart, so he’s been playing it nonstop.”
My eyebrow rises. I don’t know what to say to this. “Not a fan of Dr. Dre?”
“I love the album, and that’s the problem. He’s been trying to memorize the lyrics, but he’s butchering them, and I’m too scared to correct him.”
“Hopefully not all the lyrics,” I say. “He hasn’t had much exposure to that sort of music, and I’m not entirely certain he realizes you can’t say that, even when you’re singing along.”
“I told him that as soon as I saw the CD. He rolled his eyes and said he’d rather pair cashmere with corduroy on a rainy day than ever show that sort of disrespect.
Then he tried to dap me up.” Gary groans and covers his face with his hands.
“If I have to hear him mumble Eminem’s part one more time .
. . I might just cry, King. I don’t know what to do. ”
I sigh. “He’s a bit of an odd duck, but he’s lucky to have you as a friend. I’ll take care of that CD for you if you’ll do me a favor too.”
“Sure,” Gary says, his face brightening. I can’t tell if it’s that I’ve chosen to rely on him or that I’ve promised to spirit away one of the greatest rap albums known to man. Either way, he’s quite eager. He even bounces on his toes.
I glance around. “I’ll need to slip away with Josie tonight, right after the event.”
“Jim won’t like that.”
“I know, which is why I need you to be our cover. You’ll explain that you needed me to check on an issue with the Cattle. As for Josie, say she has a headache. He’ll be more concerned with me, anyhow.”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” he says with a stomp of his foot. It’s quite adorable.
I wrap my arm around Gary’s shoulder, and together, we start toward the farmhouse.
We file into the small arena. Jim and the staff set everything up while I showed the others around the ranch—and took care of Gary’s little problem.
Now half the staff are busy setting up the bonfire for dinner.
We’ve planned to roast weenies, as is American tradition.
The Americans have nothing that compares to a saveloy, though.
I glance at Josie as she lags behind the others. She’s busy admiring the horses and bulls. Meanwhile, I’m busy admiring her.
She’s a cowboy’s dream in flared denim jeans and a buffalo-plaid halter top.
A black cowboy hat sits on her head, and black cowboy boots point from beneath her pant legs.
She places her hand atop the hat as a gust of wind tries to knock it away.
The breeze catches her loose braid instead, tugging it in ways I wish I could.
I hang back and wait for her to catch up. When she does, she’s all smiles and brightness. She’s happy. Truly happy.
“You look ready to go line dancing,” she says.
I shake my head. “I don’t bloody dance.”
With a roll of her eyes, she looks toward the horses. “Which one am I on?”
I point to a spitfire palomino with hell in her hooves. “You’re on Toot Sweet Sue.”
“Who the fuck names these animals?”
“Me.”
She purses her lips. “My bad.”
“Well, what would you have called her?”
Josie raises her fingers to her chin and squints at the mare as she considers. “I don’t know, but it wouldn’t be Toot Sweet Sue. Makes me think of an e-girl farting into a jar for subs.”
“Do you ever have normal thoughts?”
“Not usually, no.”
It’s one of the many things about her that drives me insane in the best possible way. The little shocks she gives me whenever she opens her mouth make life interesting. Though, now that I’m thinking about shocks she’s given me with her mouth, I find myself longing for her head in my lap.
I grit my teeth and look around for the most unsexy thing I can find before someone notices the bulge in my denim. Instead, her heaving cleavage pulls me in, making it worse.
Josie raises her hand and tickles the scruff on my jaw. “I’m kind of liking this rugged side of you.”
“Careful,” I say as my dick tries to punch through the fly. “Don’t go falling in love.”
“Admiring a tiger doesn’t mean you want to take it home.” She bites her bottom lip and looks up at me. “What happens when the tiger realizes he enjoyed the company, though?”
“They’re solitary creatures, only coming together to mate. It’s a very fitting comparison for both of us, actually.”
“Haven’t lost your ability to ruin a good metaphor, I see.” She rolls her eyes. “I can’t wait for you to lose this stupid bet.”
We’ll just see who loses. For right now, we need to get in our seats. It’s almost time for the show to begin.