CHAPTER 5 #2
‘There’s not enough damn whiskey in this bar,’ I hissed. ‘Now leave me alone.’
‘Woah there, we’ve got a live wire here!’
He laughed and nudged the guy next to him, who joined in with the amusement.
I clenched my teeth, my foggy brain deciding on the best response when a voice to my left cut in. It was deeper, smoother, an undercurrent of authority ringing loud and clear.
‘Leave her alone, Jim.’
Great. Feeling distinctly like I was about to become centre-stage in some kind of pissing contest, I moved to hop off my stool. Time to call it a night.
‘It’s fine, you don’t have to leave. Jim was just about to anyway.’
A hand touched my arm, the grip gentle but firm.
I looked up, right into the face of the hot guy from earlier. Up close, the whiskey haze allowing me to maintain fierce eye contact, he was even more gorgeous than I’d realized.
‘Reckon Cole’s found his entertainment for the night,’ Jim laughed, although as the hot guy took another step closer, he shifted off the bar stool and stalked away.
‘I don’t need a damn bodyguard,’ I said, shrugging off his touch and sliding off the stool, standing for the first time since I’d arrived. The room spun at alarming speed and before I could work out what was happening, a strong arm had reached around my waist, holding me up.
‘Maybe you don’t,’ he replied, his voice alarmingly close to my ear, one side of me pressed against his rock-hard chest. ‘But the problem is, you look like you don’t care what happens to you.’
I struggled back from him, his smell, a heady, musky cologne. He let me go, but kept a hand under my arm, steadying me as I held on to the bar instead.
‘Why do you care?’ I spat, hating myself for the state I was in and resisting the urge to press up close to him again. I staggered, trying to turn away.
‘Because if you were my sister, cousin, friend – whatever – I’d want someone to do the same,’ he answered, an angry edge to his tone.
‘Listen, if you want to take whatever’s going on with you out on someone, then take it out on me.
That way you’ll feel better and I’ll know you’re not going to end up with someone like Jim. ’
I stared at him, watching as he adjusted his hat, strands of deep brown hair escaping at the back. His eyes were fierce but careful, his chiselled jaw set as firm as my own.
‘You know what I want? I want people to stop telling me what to fucking do all the time,’ I began, the remaining drops of my reserve draining away. ‘Especially men. Assholes like Jim are nothing – it’s the hot ones that cause the problems.’
The sounds from the bar filled the space between us as I heard my own words repeated in my head.
‘You calling me hot?’
His lips twitched; the touch of his hand on my arm suddenly branded me like an iron.
‘ Oh fuck off ,’ I said, turning away fully this time, walking round the bar towards the restrooms, planning to hide in there instead.
‘Wait, wait,’ he called, but I reached the door and yanked it open, taking a left in the dark corridor.
‘I’m sorry.’ His hand touched my shoulder, using just enough force to stop me in my tracks, causing everything to spin again.
‘Let me help you home. You’re gonna hurt yourself like this – walk into the street and end up under a truck or something. ’
The corridor was tight, and his considerable height and build were taking up most of the room as he towered over me. I should’ve felt scared, cautious at the very least, but instead, whiskey stirring the burning embers further, I took a step into him, placing a hand on his chest.
‘Why do you care?’ I repeated, searching his face. He was a stranger, a no one, but somehow my palm was splayed against him, my head tilted upwards to read his expression.
‘I don’t know.’
His voice was low, barely audible against the background noise from the other side of the door. I realized I could feel his heartbeat under my fingers, pounding at a rate that matched my own.
In the same moment, as his eyes moved to my lips, his hand dropping from my shoulder and grazing my back, I let my intuition make the decision for me. Reaching up on tiptoes, my hand moving to his jaw, I pulled his face towards me and kissed him, hard.
He stilled for a moment, surprised, but as I pulled back, locked into his gaze, it was him that leant into me instead, his other hand working into my hair as he kissed me right back. His lips were soft, but the need was hard.
Even through the whiskey, the jet lag – the swirling emotional mess of the past couple of days – I felt something I knew I’d never felt before.
This man, God, this man , was like a flame on the edge of a taper, the edges black and smouldering as the fire caught hold.
It grew, flaring brighter until it roared through me.
My fingers fisted his shirt and pulled him in closer still as I leant back and let myself become crushed between his body and the cold wall behind.
The feeling dragged me under, both of our breathing between the kisses becoming ragged, a necessary frustration in the frenzy.
His hand brushed the skin in the gap between my top and jeans, his fingers resting there briefly before inching upwards, grazing the band of my bra, my hand almost reaching to unhook it myself.
His skin against mine had fire breaking out on the surface, just as it raged inside.
It was as though he was a fever, invading every cell in my body. My body reacted; goosebumps formed and I shivered.
‘Cold?’ he murmured, letting up for a moment, both of us trying to catch our breath.
I shook my head. ‘Not that kind of shiver.’
He dipped his head, the most heart-achingly beautiful smile crossing his face.
I groaned, resting my head against the wall and shutting my eyes.
‘I can’t believe I’m saying this but I think I need to go.’
With my eyes still closed, I felt his lips brush my ear, his hand now fully on the bare skin of my waist.
‘Maybe you should – we’ve both had a lot to drink . . .’ he began, and although we were still standing in the restroom corridor for all to see, the fire roared in my ears and instead, I just . . . let go.
This time the kiss was fierce, surprise in his response at first, then it deepened.
His mouth eventually left mine and travelled down my neck, his tongue leaving a trail of sparks across my skin.
My hands reached his belt, pulling us together, evidence of his own feelings as rock hard as his abs, pressing against my thigh.
I had never wanted anyone like this, not even in my wildest, romance-book-reading mind.
The door opened, music flooding the corridor and wrenching us apart.
The guy who’d opened it immediately veered away with a wry smile, tipping his hat to . . .
‘Wait, I don’t even know your name?’ I said, pressing my fingers to my lips, now tingling from the force he’d applied.
He laughed, still holding my waist.
‘I’m Cole. And you are?’
‘Lottie. Nice to meet you.’
His smile was kind, but his eyes burnt with the need I’d just felt in his jeans.
‘So, what’s a British girl doing in a cowboy bar?’ he asked, sudden curiosity taking over, his hand shifting off my skin.
I sighed. The moment was over. Time to escape the questions.
‘Long story. I better go.’
He hesitated, then nodded, shifting aside to open the door for me.
We crossed the bar and made it outside, the chill night air forcing me to hug myself tightly.
‘I’ll walk you home,’ he said, holding up his hands at my arched eyebrow. ‘Believe it or not, I was raised to be a gentleman.’
I laughed and he gave a sheepish smile, half hidden as he looked down, the brim of his hat concealing his face.
‘I’m at the motel,’ I replied, pointing down the street. ‘It’s just one crossing and a short walk. I think I can make it.’
‘If you’re sure.’
Nodding, I hesitated, wanting to kiss him again but not trusting myself. He seemed to be having a similar battle, his body turned towards me but his hands rammed in his pockets as though he felt the same.
‘Night, cowboy,’ I said as the crosswalk turned green, the frigid air somehow sobering me up enough to turn without wobbling and walk across the road.
Arriving outside the motel, I made it up the steps and pushed open the door, turning to look back down the street. He was still there, hand moving to pinch the brim of his hat, then dipping it to me before he moved off, heading back towards the bar.
The night passed fitfully, sleep evading me despite the bone-crushing tiredness, my body clinging to UK time despite the whiskey, replaying the feel of the cowboy against me over and over.
So when I finally awoke the next day, bright sun streaming into the room, it was with no huge surprise that I saw it was almost 2 p.m. Groaning at my throbbing head, I took a moment before turning over and grabbing the phone to call reception.
I booked the room out for a few more hours, wincing at the additional cost but grateful they weren’t fully booked.
The thought of having to get up, pack and check out in the next ten minutes was unbearable.
Slowly I pulled myself together, careful to think of nothing except the mundane tasks ahead. A long shower, several painkillers, and a large coffee and sandwich delivered to the room eventually gave me the courage to call Lil again.
The answerphone picked up once more and I sighed. Nothing for it.
Eventually checking out, I dragged my roll-on bag down the street and headed into the first clothes shop I could find, emerging some time later with boots, jeans, shirts and a warm coat.
The only thing I couldn’t decide on was a hat, but I reasoned that if Lil wasn’t keen on me staying, there might not be any point in getting one anyway.
The jeans hugged my ass and thighs, flaring in a subtle bootcut, the tan boots poking out from underneath. A deep blue plaid shirt, tucked in, with a tan belt and low-key silver buckle finished it all off. Somehow it didn’t look stupid. In fact, it made my previous outfit seem like the imposter.
I called a taxi and waited in the town square for it to arrive, wondering if Lil and I still looked alike.
Despite our hair-colour difference, Lil and I shared our mums’ freckles, wide blue eyes and heart-shaped face.
We’d always been mistaken for sisters when I’d visited and as an only child, it’d been a nice fantasy to live, if only for a few weeks a year.
Finally, butterflies building and scattering as the taxi took us out of town, the vast expanse of sky opened up, with low wisps of cloud burnt orange by the waning sun. The vast Teton Range towered in every direction, surrounded on all sides by grass and trees and space.
Pulling off the main road, the side road growing rougher and steeper with every second, we passed under a tall wooden arch, the ‘Diamond Back’ name carved into a plank at the top.
As we wound up and up, the spruce trees thickened on both sides until they suddenly stopped on the right, revealing a view over the valley, the main ranch house straight ahead.
Two people stood near the main door, both turning towards us. Even at this distance I could see the confusion, their faces shielded under cowboy hats, one dark brown, one black.
‘Here’s fine,’ I said as the driver pulled to a stop a short distance from them. I knew Lil was on the left, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to look yet, though the heavy tint of the windows concealed my identity from her.
I took one last steadying breath and opened the taxi door, swinging my bags down first and following with a thud in my new boots.
As I looked up, Lil’s eyes found mine, forming wide blue saucers, her hand lifting to cover her mouth.
The blond cowboy next to her looked between us from under the brim of his black hat.
‘Lottie?’ she whispered, her voice hoarse. ‘Is that—’
Not trusting my voice to hold, I launched myself into her instead, receiving a hug that threatened to crush every bone in my body.
‘Hey, Lil,’ I whispered as the taxi backed away.
Right as I turned into a sobbing wreck.