Cole slipped his thumb through his stretched-out belt loop and stared off into the
horizon. If he was honest with himself, really honest, he’d admit everything came
back to Katie. It always did. The foul mood he’d been in for months, the reason he
kept pouring his life’s blood into the ranch.
He hadn’t gone to Katie’s graduation. He knew his absence had hurt her, and it tore
him up inside, knowing he’d caused her pain. At the time, he’d thought it was a good
way of sending her a message, but now he couldn’t remember what he’d meant to say.
The sun beat down on him like a hammer, and he closed his eyes against the brightness.
He needed to get back to work, stop feeling sorry for himself. He had ranch hands
to pay and horses’ mouths to feed, and if he didn’t stop questioning his every decision,
he’d lose his mind. Or maybe it was too late for that. A person had to be insane to
try to break into the tight-knit industry of horse breeding without deep pockets or
a pedigree to back him.
It took time for a breeder to earn a reputation. His horses had to be given a chance,
and then prove themselves as workhorses. He had some buyers, but needed a few more
years, and please Lord, a few more colts or fillies before he could charge what he
needed to in order to drag the business into the black.
His life always came down to two things: time and money. The first, he never had enough
of, and the other slipped through his fingers faster than he could last living hand
to mouth. At the thought of food, his stomach growled. Cole placed another solid kick
to the plastic jug and sent it flying toward his front steps.
The sound of a low sympathetic whistle had Cole turning to watch Jett walk up the
drive. He hadn’t heard his truck, but was surprised at how his mood lifted as he watched
his best friend swagger up with a six-pack tucked under his arm.
“Wow.” Jett whistled again. “Well, I’d say you’ve won that round.” He toed the plastic
remains with his boot. “It’s dead all right, but I’d have to say it suffered a cleaner
death than that truck of yours.”
Jett’s open smile held no malice, and for the first time since Cole had woken, he
felt himself take a mental step back from the edge he was teetering on. Jett, as always,
seemed cool and calm as if the heat had no hold on him. Unlike Cole, Jett’s crisp
white shirt still had creases from being freshly washed and pressed. His designer
jeans were dust free and his black boots still held a hint of polish. Of course, unlike
Cole, Jett hadn’t been up since before dawn doing hard manual labor and taking care
of a horse ranch. More than likely he’d just woken up, and was well rested after a
night of partying and women.
Jett threw him a beer and Cole caught it midair. “Tough day?”
Cole shook his head. “Tough life.”
Jett
tsked
as if disappointed. “It’s all in your perspective, Cole. If you think life is hard,
then it’s gonna be hard.”
“Shut up, Jett,” Cole said with a growl. He was in no mood to hear Jett’s crap about
how life was one big party and things would all work out if a person would just put
the right spin on it all. The reality was sometimes life just sucked. And it was easier
to chill with a positive spin when a man knew where his next meal was coming from.
“What’s eatin’ you? I show up with free beer and not even a hey, thanks man.”
Cole let his scowl relax. “Sorry, bad day.”
It wasn’t Jett’s fault he’d been born on the right side of the tracks. He’d always
helped Cole out where he could, sent business his way. Had been there for him when
his father had died; had been there for Nikki when his mother had.
“That’s all right.” Jett rarely held a grudge against him for long. “Just worried
about you is all. I’ve known you forever, and I’ve never seen you like this before.”
Cole cracked open his can and drained the contents in a few gulps. The beer was so
smooth and cool going down, he immediately reached for another. Jett tossed him one,
then rested against the truck’s front bumper.
“Hey, I have an idea. Let’s go out tonight. It’s been forever since you and I went
to the steak house. And really, there’s nothing in life a rare rib-eye and a good
lay won’t fix. Besides, I owe you dinner. That was the bet over the game last week,
right?” Jett readjusted his hat. “Whatever happened with that Veronica chick? Last
time I saw her, she sure had the hots for you. You were all she could talk about.”
Cole rubbed his forehead and groaned. Remembering the redhead he’d walked out on because
of that desperate call from Katie made his head hurt.
“That bad, huh?”
“Worse.”
“Dang, how much worse can it be than screwing up a sure thing? I mean even you could’ve
pulled that off.” Jett sighed and took a drink from his can. “Is it Nikki? How is
she?”
Cole’s jaw tightened. He shifted his gaze toward Jett, then looked forward again.
Jett rolled his shoulders back. “Do you know if she is seeing anyone?”
Cole turned on him. “What the hell, Jett? Why do you care?”
“What? No.” Jett shook his head. “It’s not like that. I was just wondering if that
was why you’re so bent out of shape. Is it the ranch then?”
Cole grunted.
“Well, that leaves Katie. How is she? I heard she’s looking pretty good. Was thinking
about asking her out my—”
Jett didn’t finish his sentence, which was good since Cole already had his fist wrapped
around Jett’s shirt. The collar pulled tight, cutting off Jett’s air supply. Jett’s
face turned red, but that didn’t stop him from talking. “Christ, Logan, I was just
kiddin’. I know how you feel about Katie. I was just trying to get a reaction. Didn’t
know it had gotten so bad.”
Cole released Jett and stepped back. Jett was right. When had it gotten so bad?
Jett straightened out his shirt, smoothing the wrinkles away. “Guess I picked the
wrong day for a social visit. I just wanted to stop by and ask if you were coming
to my sister’s wedding. Apparently a seating chart is ranked right up there with a
presidential campaign. Figures, since both cost about the same.”
Cole groaned in earnest this time. “Jett, come on. You know I hate those things. Black-tie
affairs are not my thing.”
Jett finished his beer. Crushing the can, he threw it into the bed of Cole’s truck.
“Fine, since I am such a good friend I’ll make your excuses to Mother, but you’re
gonna be missing all the drama. Lauren’s insisting on a nonreligious ceremony and
asked if I could marry them. I got my license in the mail this morning.”
Cole spewed his beer all over. “You? Do you even believe in the sanctity of marriage?”
Jett grinned. “I believe in it enough to want my sisters to have the sanctity of marriage.”
“You do know the women you sleep with are someone’s sisters.”
“The thought has crossed my mind, but rarely.”
Cole shook his head. “Christ, I bet your mother is having a fit.”
“To say the least. There are some benefits to being an orphan.”
“Or there’s finally a benefit to not being an Avery.” Cole smiled.
Jett laughed. “Maybe. By the way, I talked to Ted the other day. He’s willing to sell
you that Ford pickup at a bang-up price. You still have the money, right? In the bank?”
Cole’s throat tightened, and he immediately wished he hadn’t drunk on an empty stomach.
He couldn’t tell Jett where his money was really going. To say the words out loud
would make his crappy life real, and he wasn’t ready to face reality quite yet. Instead,
he turned and watched his two prize mares trot around the arena.
“All-right-ee then,” Jett drawled, breaking the extended silence. Jett opened another
beer with a crisp snap. “What’re you doing, Cole? I just don’t get it. You hate this
ranch. Yeah, you don’t come right out and say it, but it’s written all over your face.
Why don’t you sell it and come work for my family? I’m sure my dad could get you in
somewhere.”
Cole turned and smiled. That’s what he liked about Jett. To him opportunity was always
just over the horizon, and a bad day could only get better. That, and the fact that
Jett’s overfondness for talk could make a one-sided conversation seem mutual. “If
you’re gonna stand there and flap your gums, maybe you can start the truck and help
me figure out why she’s running hot.”
Jett groaned. “I am not getting this shirt greasy. I just got my order back from my
tailor, and I think he is sending his daughter to college on what I’m paying him.”
“No problem.” Cole smirked. “You can borrow one of mine. I got four on clearance at
Walmart.”
The look of horror on Jett’s face was priceless.
Cole decided not to leave him hanging. “Fine, can you just start the engine?”
Jett walked over and slid into the driver’s seat. After a few minutes of fiddling
on Cole’s part, the engine sputtered to life. Cole added more water and prayed that
the slow oil leak was . . . real slow. He slammed the hood closed and motioned to
Jett to cut the motor. Cole wiped his hands on his ruined shirt and threw it toward
his sagging front steps. By unspoken agreement, both men walked over to the fence
and leaned against the peeling wood.
Two chestnuts, a mother and daughter, stood in the far corner nuzzling. The day was
still hot, but the sun was finally creeping toward the horizon. Cole sipped his second
beer more slowly, relishing the moment, since there were about six more hours of work
ahead of him.
“I’m serious, Cole.” Jett never let silence drag on for more than ten minutes, but
by Cole’s count it had only been a blessed seven.
Jett faced him, determined to have his say. “This ranch is gonna kill you. Don’t you
ever think about how easy it would be to just walk away? Start fresh?”
And all of a sudden the reasons for staying deserted him. His father was dead, he’d
buried his mother, and his sister might be a lost cause. So why stay? Cole scraped
his palm over his thick five o’clock shadow. The friction was as irritating as it
was pleasurable, and for the first time he spoke the truth. “Every day. Every. Damn.
Day.”
Chapter 13
Katie lay on top of her comforter and watched the ceiling fan lazily move through
the thick air. The last few months had been tough. Since the kiss on Prom night, her
relationship with Cole had been strained.
The last few weeks there’d been groans from him and exaggerated sighs from her, but
the other day things came to a boil. Cole had snapped at her. She’d been helping to
wash one of the new stud stallions. There’d been some comment about her not listening,
not doing what she was told and forging ahead, regardless of the consequences. He’d
told her she had no business taking care of the horses if she wasn’t going to respect
him as her boss. There’d been a few other words hurled back and forth, and it wasn’t
long before it escalated to a full-out fight.
“Screw you!” Katie had yelled. For emphasis she threw the cloth she’d been using into
the bucket of soapy water by her feet. Water came up and sprayed her neck and arms.
“I’m out here working to save your butt and this is the thanks I get?”
Cole’s face had gotten a hardened look; the muscle in his jaw twitched. “I don’t need
you
to save my anything. And if you don’t watch that mouth of yours, I’ll take that rag
and wash it out for you.”
Speechless in her fury, she watched as he’d turned and walked away. Typical Cole,
he thought the conversation ended when he wanted it to.
Cole had left without another word, and yet there was so much more Katie had wanted
to say. She wanted to tell him he couldn’t dismiss her anymore, and she was sick of
being ignored. Instead, Katie had calmly walked out, but not before she kicked the
bucket of water across three stalls.
Katie hadn’t been able to avoid the stables altogether. Star was there, and she still
had to take care of her, but now the silence between Cole and Katie was worse than
the arguing.
Katie rolled over on her side to check the clock on the bedside table—11:42 P.M. The
house was quiet, her father having gone to bed long ago. Before he had kissed her
good night, he’d joked with her. “Tomorrow’s the big one-eight,” he said. “You should
check for gray hairs in the morning.”
Katie had rolled her eyes and kissed his weathered cheek. Now eighteen wasn’t tomorrow;
it was less than twenty minutes away.
Cole hadn’t come to her graduation, and that alone told her everything she needed
to know for tonight. If he’d showed up with the half grin he reserved especially for
her, she wouldn’t have had the courage to do what she wanted to next.
After her graduation ceremony she’d chosen to come home and have a quiet dinner with
Pa, instead of going out with her friends. Katie had noticed for the first time the
lines around her father’s face and the redness in his features that never went away.
Her father never dated, that she was aware of. His whole existence was centered on
her, and soon she would be leaving for college. He’d locked himself away from love,
from anyone else, and Katie saw his future stretching out into years made up of long,
lonely days.
Pa’s life was not going to be hers. He might be too scared to let anyone else in after
her mother died, but Katie wasn’t going to let fear rule her life. She knew what the
fighting with Cole was really about, but now one of his most lethal weapons was disarmed.
The clock shone 11:43. Close enough. She rolled out of bed. But her hands trembled
as she pulled on her jeans. For half a second she hesitated, then dismissed the weakness.
With her decision made, Katie slipped on the infamous white shirt, but this time sans
the bra.
It was hard to go slow when so much was at stake. Her bare feet made soft sounds on
the wooden floor as she crept out the back door. Heart racing, Katie shoved her feet
into her boots and finally took off at a run.
Every star was out, her personal night-lights, showing her the way home—to Cole. Her
breathing was loud in the dark blue hush of the night, but that was nothing compared
to the pounding of her heart. She paused at the barn door, one hand on the butterflies
in her stomach and the other resting on the crisscrossed two-by-fours. Light glowed
from under the crack between the chipped wood door and smooth concrete.
He was here. Only one person would be so close to midnight. The simple fact of his
presence banished all doubt from Katie’s mind. Cole waited for her. A breath for faith,
a coat of lip balm for courage, and Katie boldly opened the door.
Her boots crunched on the soft dirt and cinders beneath. A single harsh light shone
from the tallest beam, while the rest of the barn was kept in darkness. Down the wide
center aisle, between the stalls, was Cole’s truck. The truck she’d push-started and
cursed right alongside him. The one that sported a sun-bleached paint job, balding
tires, and was in desperate need of a one-way visit to the junkyard.
Leaning over the propped hood was Cole. Outside there’d been a light breeze, but inside
the barn was warm. Light shimmered over his well-defined back, skin slicked with sweat.
His oil-stained jeans hung carelessly low below a white waistband of cotton briefs
and ended bunched around dirty boots.
In all the years Katie had known Cole, she’d never seen him shirtless. He’d always
kept himself decent in the barn by following his unwritten dress code, even during
the stickiest of summers. But he must’ve broken the rule outside when she wasn’t around,
because his back was as dark as his arms.
Though it was close to midnight, her entry hadn’t startled him. Cole simply turned
his head and peered at her under one arm. His blue gaze traveled her form, and then
he faced forward, bracing his arms wide on the frame of the truck.
Icy fear killed the butterflies. For one moment she thought Cole wouldn’t turn around,
and that she’d made a mistake. Desperate, she stepped forward.
“Don’t,” Cole whispered.
With his one word her motions stilled. His voice said it all. The battle he fought
was within himself. She could do no more. He’d have to choose.
Before Cole had even looked behind him, he knew she was there. His awareness of her
had ceased to amaze him long ago, and now he just took the tingle in his blood for
what it was. He’d gripped the metal edges of his truck to keep himself from turning
around.
He forced himself to calm his crazy breathing and try to remember rational thought.
He focused on the inside of his truck’s hood—the dirt and grease caked a long-ago
paint job. But in his mind’s eye he saw Katie.
The overhead light had not been his friend. The glow had picked up every soft highlight
in her dark hair as it rose natural and unruly behind her. He knew she hated her hair—she’d
said so often enough—but he loved it, loved the wildness and unpredictability of it.
He’d almost drowned in the scent of the waves of brown once, and now the thought of
touching it frightened him.
But it was her shirt that had him clutching his truck like a damn lifeline. The thin
white cotton clung to her skin so he could see the darkened color of her nipples.
The neckline swooped low showing just a hint of cleavage. But if she bent over—knowing
from when he’d caught sight of her virginal white bra, which had haunted his dreams
for months—it would gap and reveal much more.
And now, there was no bra. His mouth watered in anticipation.
“Why the hell are you here, Katie?” God, it didn’t even sound like him; he was surprised
he could even talk through clenched teeth.
“I’m eighteen now.”
“I’m aware of that fact, but you’re still a child and it’s way past your bedtime.”
A deeper hush fell over the already quiet night.
“Turn around, Cole,” she said.
He could hear the tears in her voice, and it destroyed any chance he had at pretense.
Not to mention he felt like an idiot talking to his truck’s engine.
Desperate, he made a play for pity. “I’m drowning here, Katie,” he whispered.
“Don’t worry,” she said, her voice small, but sure. “I’ll save you.”
Cole cursed and hung his head. He should’ve known better; Katie never let him off
that easy. She didn’t understand resolve or fear. He was the only one out of the two
people standing here who was burdened with foresight. There was no such thing as a
happy ending. Not in his life, not where he lived.
But in the end, he was just a man. So he steeled himself and turned.
It sucked when reality was even worse than fantasy. Worse or better, he couldn’t get
his mind to agree. He could see the outline of her breasts and the tightening of her
nipples that shouted “yes” for the world to see. He cut his gaze to her face. Her
skin was scrubbed free of any makeup, but flushed. Lips full and wet, since she kept
licking them, parting them with her tongue. Her eyes were dark brown pools of whiskey,
and the need rolling off of her would’ve had a lesser man claiming her on top of the
dirt and hay.
Katie watched as Cole slowly turned, and at the sight of his bare chest, smooth and
ripped with muscle, she locked her knees to keep upright. Instead of his inviting
smile, there was a hardness she rarely saw that contrasted with the desire in his
eyes.
Cole stood and stared. The silence between them crackled as if a whole conversation
could be said without words.
Her breathing quickened as her nipples contracted into small, tight buds, sensitive
to the brush of the cotton across them. She refused to hide her body’s reaction even
as a flush of heat rushed to her cheeks. She’d been waiting all of her life for this
moment. She was tired of hiding. She was ready. Unashamed, she gazed in his eyes and
let the wealth of her feelings pour into her face.
Cole was no coward—he returned stare for stare—but she could see his jaw flex and
knew he was pissed. She’d pushed him hard, but this was where the women separated
themselves from the girls.
“I’m not a child any longer.” She took a step closer.
“And I told you, if you wear that shirt again, I’ll burn it,” he growled.
But Cole would have to do more than display a little anger to scare her. Before she
lost courage, Katie crossed her arms and pulled.
She threw her shirt in his face, along with her challenge. “Go ahead and do it.”