Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
“ Y o, Sarge, we’re striking up a card game tonight. You in?” a deep voice with a Southern drawl asked.
Draven turned to see Trent headed his way. Draven leaned against the corral fence and had been watching a few horses graze. He was done for the day and couldn’t bring himself to go home. There was nothing wrong with his house, it was beautiful and built how he wanted it. But the only thing was that it was meant for a family. It wasn’t for a single man who lived alone.
Draven didn’t know when he’d started feeling lonely. He would have thought he would enjoy the solitude of living alone, but he’d have to admit that night he’d spent with Cashea had him feeling as if he was missing out on something.
A woman to come home to.
Someone to share his life with. A loving partner who would make him feel needed and wanted. He shook his head. His father’s wish for him to settle down must be messing with him.
Trent came to stand by him. He’d been on the ranch for about six months. He and Draven were close in age, and both had served for about the same time. Trent had done multiple tours in the Army. He had recently retired and joined Silver Creek. He was an overall good guy. Draven didn’t mind him too much. He was a hard worker and had one hell of a way with horses.
“I told you not to call me that,” Draven murmured. He was retired. No longer did he need to go by his official title and rank from the Marines. Here he was just Draven Harvey. “I’m retired.”
“You were ranked higher than me.” Trent chuckled. He rested his forearms on the fence and joined Draven in gazing out at the animals.
“We are equal here.” Draven ran a hand along his face. A card game did sound good. He did have fond memories of the games the men and women in his battalion had played. He blew out a deep breath and bit back a smile. Those games were legendary. They may not have had much money to bid with, but everyone got creative on what they would wager with.
Draven had planned to head down to the Hen House. He figured he would switch up the days he would go. If he wanted to avoid Cashea, then he wouldn’t be able to go on Friday or Saturday nights any longer. Not that he had to avoid her. He needed to avoid her. Everything about her had him wanting things that he didn’t deserve.
Like another night between her thighs.
“So you in or not?” Trent asked.
“Next time.” Draven shook his head. It was rare for him to go down to the bar on a Tuesday, but what the hell. Two of his favorite teams were playing tonight, so this would be one hell of a game to watch, and it would go good with a big thick burger and a nice glass of bourbon or whatever was on tap.
“Well, we’ll save a seat just in case you change your mind.” Trent gave him a slap on the back.
Draven stiffened. Trent must have recognized his reaction. His smile disappeared. A lot of the men and women who came to the ranch had issues they were dealing with. Some even sought therapy. One of the local social workers came out to the ranch once or twice a week to meet with a few of the ranch hands on their lunch. It was part of the ranch’s agenda to assist the veterans.
“My bad, man. It’s a habit.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Draven said. He pushed off the fence and tipped his head to Trent. His reaction was automatic. It was something he was going to have to deal with. Trent wasn’t a threat to him. Maybe over time that reaction would die down. “Next time.”
He pulled his brimmed hat down on his brow and headed toward his truck. He had already showered and changed his clothes. There was no way he would go out smelling of God only knows what. He got in his truck and took in Trent walking toward the housing for the hands who preferred to stay on the property. His father had ensured that they would have a place to stay if they wanted to be close to the ranch. He’d built a large house they shared.
Draven started his truck and threw it in gear. He drove down the road and passed the main house. He took in his father, Bee, and Buck sitting on the porch. He tapped on the horn and kept going. He didn’t want to stop and explain where he was going. If his father knew he was headed toward the bar in the middle of the week, he was sure Andy would try to talk him out of it.
Once on the main road, he stepped a little harder on the gas. He rolled down the windows and allowed the air to flow through the cab. His phone chose that moment to ring. He glanced down at the screen and took in Ridge’s name flashing. Draven tapped on the hands-free button on the steering wheel to answer.
“Yeah,” he answered dryly.
“Well, hello to you, you old son of a bitch.” Ridge chuckled.
Draven relaxed at the sound of Ridge’s voice. His brother was younger than him by four years and was probably the only person he would let get away with talking to him like that. Draven was damn proud of him. Ridge’s practice was thriving. He was a brilliant vet and he had a long list of clients. He had brought in another vet who helped him handle the in-office visits so he could go out on ranch and farm calls in the community. Ridge loved what he did, and it showed.
“What the hell do you want?” Draven asked, his voice coming out a little more gruff than he had planned.
Ridge just laughed it off. If anyone knew Draven, it would be Ridge.
“Well, I am being made to call you to invite you for breakfast in the morning. We would love to have your bright personality and sunshine at the table.” Ridge chuckled again.
Draven didn’t have to think twice about his answer. He had already made up his mind that he was going to make a conscious effort to be around his family more. Maybe that would cure this new loneliness he was feeling.
“I’ll be there,” Draven replied. He was met with silence. He glanced over at the screen and saw the phone call was still active. Had his answer shocked Ridge into silence? “Are you still there?”
“Yeah. I honestly didn’t think you would say you’d come,” Ridge said.
“Well, do you want me there or not?” Draven frowned. If he hadn’t thought he would commit, then why call and ask?
Because he’s called and asked multiple times before and you declined.
Draven blew out a deep breath. He needed to do better. His family didn’t deserve the cold shoulder from him. They had been trying for years to get him to open up to them .
“Of course we do. It will be good to have you. Bee said breakfast will be on the table at seven sharp.”
Draven nodded. That would be perfect. He’d get his day started then take a break to go enjoy breakfast which he was sure was going to be out of this world. The woman was a goddess in the kitchen. The call ended with Draven promising to not be late.
He pulled into the Hen House parking lot and noticed how different it was than on Fridays. Maybe this would be better. How many people truly went out on a Tuesday night? He found a spot and coasted his truck in. Again, he made sure he was in the back away from where most of the patrons would park. He took pride in his truck. It was the first brand-new truck he’d ever purchased. He killed the engine and got out. He glanced over where Cashea’s vehicle had been parked and didn’t see it. He just hoped Brett heeded his warning. If he had to go back to him, he wasn’t going to be as nice as he was last time. He’d been tame and let Brett off lightly.
Draven made his way to the entrance and opened the door. Country music blared from the speakers. The house DJ was on the stage playing the latest music. This crowd was definitely lighter than the weekend. He walked over to the bar and was able to claim his usual spot. There were familiar faces already seated along the dark-wood counter. He slid into his seat and nodded to some cowboys he recognized.
“What brings you in on a Tuesday?” Danny came out of the back with a tray of clean glasses. He set them on the counter a little ways away from Draven.
“Good food, ice-cold beer, and the game,” Draven said.
“Hear, hear,” a few of the guys murmured, holding their frosted glasses in the air.
Draven gave a small smile at the camaraderie when it came to the game that was just starting. It was already up on the television screen.
“I know what your usual order is, but I have a new orient. I’m gonna let her come take your order. Be kind. Today’s her first day, and we can’t afford to lose her.” Danny chuckled.
“Not a problem,” Draven murmured. He wasn’t that much of an ass that he would ruin someone’s first day on the job. Everyone had to start somewhere. He leaned back in his chair and zeroed in on the television. With the music blaring in the background, the television on the channel he watched with the closed caption, all he was missing was his food and beer.
“She’ll be right out.” Danny went back over to the glasses and began placing them where they belonged.
The door swung open, and a familiar figure sauntered out of the back. Draven froze in place, his breath catching in his throat.
Cashea.
She wore a pair of knee-high boots and a black V-neck t-shirt and jeans that looked as if she’d been poured in them. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, a few wisps escaping. Draven remembered the sight of her hair spread out underneath her on her pillows. The sounds of her moans and gasps came rushing back to him. His heart rate sped up. He swallowed hard and bit back a curse.
Their eyes met.
Draven knew he was fighting an uphill battle when it came to this woman. Her lips curled up into a sexy smile. She moved toward him. She snagged a notepad off the counter and pulled a pen from her back pocket.
“Hello there.” Cashea stood across the bar from him .
He greedily took her in, from the light makeup to the scent of her perfume reaching him. He was mesmerized.
She tilted her head to the side. “What can I get you?”
“Hey,” he finally replied. He inhaled sharply and leaned forward. He just wanted to be a little closer to her. Thoughts of food had gone out of the window. Instead of ordering food, he said the first thing that came to mind. “Why are you working here?”
She sighed heavily and rested a hip against the counter.
“Well, long story short, my good looks may get me compliments, but they sure as heck don’t pay for tires,” she drawled.
Draven’s hand clenched into a fist. Brett hadn’t paid for her tires. He opened his hand and tried to relax, but anger surged inside him. He would take care of this. She shouldn’t have to get a second job because an asshole decided to damage her property. If he had to drag Brett to her and make him pay her, he would do it. There were a few things he had mastered in the military, and one of them was how to get a man to talk. He was very skilled at prying things from men .
Brett was going to regret the day he’d first laid eyes on Cashea.
“Brett hasn’t contacted you?”
“No,” she snorted. She rolled her eyes and brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. Even in the low light of the bar, her skin still glowed. “And I don’t expect him to. Between the tow, the tires, and the other thing Hal said I needed, my credit cards can’t take any more. Hence why I’m needing a second job. It’s only temporary, though, until Tess comes back from her maternity leave.”
Draven had half a mind to leave right then and there to go looking for the fucker. He was sure he could find out where he lived with a phone call.
“How’d you get here tonight?” he asked. He ran his hands along his jeans. All thoughts of food and drinks had disappeared.
She smiled and tilted her head to the side again. “Why, the two feet God blessed me with.” She giggled. She leaned against the counter and stared at him.
Draven’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of her laughter. Even with the music blaring, he heard her. She was fucking beautiful. How the hell could he avoid her? Had he messed up with her by just leaving without saying a damn word to her? He’d just woken up, dressed, and left. He had been a coward. “I had to work my other job before I came here, so it’s not a far walk. I need to get out and get some exercise.”
Draven remembered distinctly how curvy she was, and she didn’t need to lose a damn pound. He liked his women thick. He was a big man and needed a woman who could handle him.
And Cashea could.
That night hadn’t left his mind at all. He had to think of something else at the moment. Memories of sinking inside her kept replaying in his head. His jeans were getting too damn tight.
“So, what can I get you?” she continued on.
He cleared his throat and rattled off his order. She took note of it before pushing back from the counter. She tossed him another smile and grabbed a frosty mug. She went over to the tap and filled it with the cold brew.
She brought it back and set it down in front of him. “Enjoy the game. I’ll put your order in.”
Draven picked up the glass and took a sip of the beer. The Hen House always had the best beer on tap. He tried to focus on the game, but his concentration was shit. He couldn’t stop stealing glances over at Cashea. He watched her work the bar with grace and beauty. If he wasn’t mistaken, she must have done this before. She had a way about her. Those smiles of hers were infectious. Draven peered around the bar and saw there were a few others eyeing her as she moved around.
Jealousy reared its head, but he had no right to be jealous. He’d had his one night with her. He took another hefty sip of his drink. He was a fucking fool. He could have at least had the decency to offer to take her out to dinner or something. A woman like her deserved to be spoiled by a good man.
Key word, good man. That was something Draven was not. It was like taking a cold splash of water to his face and brought him back to reality. He couldn’t be what she needed. He exhaled slowly, thankful he’d come to his senses.
“Here you go, honey.” Cashea slid his plate in front of him.
That had been fast. He hadn’t even realized he’d been daydreaming so long. He glanced up and saw that the first quarter of the game had just ended. She placed a few extra napkins in front of his plate. He stared down and saw the chef had cooked his burger just the way he liked it. The fries were piping hot from the steam still rising from them .
“You need anything else?” she asked.
You, he wanted to stay, but his mouth remained closed. Her being near him was scrambling his brain. He was acting like a schoolboy with his first crush. But most schoolboys didn’t get to have their little slice of heaven between the woman of their dream’s legs.
“I’m good,” he muttered. He was going to have to be.
She walked over, snagged another frosty glass, and filled it up. She brought it over to him and placed it next to his almost empty one.
He gave her a nod. “Thanks.”
“Cashea, baby. I need a refill,” a voice called out from farther down the bar.
Draven’s head snapped around to see who would dare call her baby. His muscles grew tense. He gaze landed on a figure he recognized. Jacob Pierce, whose family owned a cattle ranch south of Ironhaven. Jacob was a good-looking guy and about the same age as Cashea. He was a stand-up guy, but Draven’s only problem with him was the use of the term ‘baby’ when speaking to Cashea.
“I’m coming, Jacob.” Cashea smiled. She tucked her hair behind one of her ears and turned to him again. “Let me know if you need anything else. ”
And then she was ambling over to Jacob. Draven almost called her back to him. He didn’t want to see her walking over to some other man. Even though she was at work and doing her job, Draven didn’t like the fact that her attention was on someone else. Jacob was a good man from what Draven knew. Last he’d heard, Jacob was even single. Draven only knew that thanks to the gossip he’d overheard at the feed store the other day. What if Jacob asked Cashea out on a date and she accepted? There was nothing he could do about it. She didn’t belong to him.
Her hips swaying was hypnotic. Draven had to drag his eyes from those same hips he had gripped the other night. He blinked and focused on his food. He had to stop thinking about her. He snagged his first beer and finished it off. He was going to have to push her out of his head, and maybe tonight was a night where he may need a little help in doing it.