And Then You Dare (Crested Butte Cowboys Series Book 5) (11 page)

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so, for the first
few months of Willow’s life, I raised her by myself. Renie and I weren’t
together then.”

“She was with me.”

Bullet was sure Jace was
joking, but the look on Billy’s face told him it was no joke.

“You don’t have to bring
that up ever again, you hear me?”

Jace just laughed. Bullet
was confused. He thought Billy and Jace were best friends. But then he’d also
thought Willow was Renie’s daughter. “They look so much alike,” he said out
loud without meaning to.

“I know they do, but I’m
tellin’ you the truth.”

“Okay, so…”

“Renie wanted me to tell
you, so you know that nobody is feelin’ sorry for you around here. It’s more
that we understand, or I do anyway. I been through it.”

It explained a lot
actually. Bill and Dottie acted as though it was perfectly natural for Bullet
to be raising Grey on his own. They helped out, but they’d never done anything
that made him feel uncomfortable about the situation.

“Thanks.”

“Sure thing.” Billy looked
at Jace. “Did I cover everything she wanted me to tell him?”

“Nope.”

“
Shit.
What
did I leave out?”

“She wanted you to tell him
that the right woman will love his baby too.”

“Yeah. That.” Billy stood
and walked over to one of the stalls. “End of conversation.”

When Jace started laughing
again, Billy threw a curry comb at him.

“Dinner bell. You’re both
saved.” Jace stood and walked out of the barn. Billy followed him.

“You comin’ to dinner?”

Yeah, he was. All this deep
conversation was making him hungry.

Lyric motioned at him when
Bullet approached the table. She was standing behind the chair next to Tristan.
When he got close, she stepped back and walked around to the other side of the
table, next to Grey’s high chair.

“Needin’ a little auntie
time,” she explained.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

***

Before Tristan realized what was happening, Bullet was seated
in the chair next to her. He leaned in close. “Hey darlin’, you don’t mind
sittin’ next to me, do ya?”

His breath was warm on her skin. It made her want to lean closer
still. “No, I don’t mind.” Why couldn’t she resist him? What was it about
Bullet, or was she destined to keep falling for the exact kind of men she
didn’t want to fall for?

“Good. I like bein’ next to you,” he smiled.

And with that, Tristan was toast. Putty. A heaping blob of
hormones, all screaming at her to pull him away from the dinner table, take him
downstairs, and into her bed.

He leaned again. “Whatever you’re thinking, I couldn’t agree
more.”

He couldn’t know what she was thinking, could he?

“Come with me,” he said after dessert.

“No, Bullet, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Come on, let’s go for a walk.”

Tristan looked around the table. Everyone was engaged in
conversation, not paying attention to her or Bullet. Lyric had Grey and Caden
in a fit of giggles. Bullet leaned in close again, as he had throughout dinner.
“Come on darlin’,” he whispered. She was powerless to deny him.

As the front door closed behind them, Bullet turned her back
against it, and covered her mouth with his. And, oh, it felt good. Better than
she imagined, and she’d spent more time than she’d ever admit imagining.

His hard body pressed against hers, keeping her pinned between
him and the door. He slid one hand into her hair, keeping her lips where he
wanted them. He leaned back and ran his eyes down her body. His hand tugged her
hair, forcing her chin up, giving him open access to her neck, her throat, and
down to where her v-neck shirt rested against her breasts. He ran his tongue
back up and along her collar bone, stopping to kiss each of the freckles he
found along the way.

“Wait,” she groaned, putting each hand on his strong biceps.
“Bullet, stop.”

***

He couldn’t stop, not with the way she just ran her tongue
over her bottom lip. He leaned up against her, feeling her body with every
length of his. Heart to heart, he could feel hers thundering. He trailed kisses
along her jawline, back up to her lips. Her lips parted, allowing her to draw
in a deep breath. He covered her mouth again, following the breath, deepening
the kiss. He smoothed his hand down her side, feeling the swell of her hip, the
curve of her spine. When he slid his hand into the waist band of her jeans,
Tristan froze.

“Wait,” she breathed. “I can’t do this. Not here.”

Not here.
That’s what she said. Not that she
couldn’t do this, but that she couldn’t do this here. He peeled himself away
from her, his body feeling the chill of night air, after having her warmth
seeping into his bones. He sunk back again.

“I have a place in town.” The hand that was still in her hair
kept her from turning away. Thank goodness he hadn’t turned that key in yet.

***

No, no, no.
What was she doing? One hand still in
her hair, his free hand was on her waist, sliding back up under her shirt. He
grazed the underside of her breast with the back of his hand before trailing
back down, over her hip, where his fingers dug into the curve of her backside.

“God, you feel good. So good.”

His voice. His breath. His hands. She wasn’t imagining any of
it. This time it was real. Tristan rested her head back against the door,
taking another deep breath. Whenever she did, he took the opportunity to slide
his tongue deep into her mouth. He kissed her hard, taking her breath into him.
And then he groaned.

The sound made her head swim—dizzy with wanting him. She
began to shake, and rested her hands on his biceps again to steady herself. He
stopped.

“Tristan? Are you okay?”

She wasn’t okay. She was the furthest thing from okay. Inside
the door she was up against were people who had welcomed her into the family,
offered her their friendship, and here she was, no better than a buckle bunny,
letting a cowboy get into her pants on their front porch.

“No,” she moaned, catching him off guard enough that she could
push away from him. “I can’t do this Bullet,” she cried.

***

He watched as the front door closed behind her. She was
inside. He was out, an outsider, never to be welcome into her bed, or her life.
He’d done the very thing he knew would push her the furthest away. Bullet lost control.
He ran his hands over her body, the body he craved like a man dying of thirst
craved water.

Instead of taking his time, seducing her, he attacked her.
When Tristan’s passions met his, he lost all sense of thought. He was consumed
by his desire to feel her next to him, under him.

This wasn’t just another girl he’d fuck, this was a woman he
wanted in his life as much as he wanted her in his bed.

***

1966

Every time Bill looked into the stands and saw Dottie sitting
there, watching him, he felt his chest pump up. He didn’t miss the way the
other cowboys looked at her, or at him, when she’d wave and blow a kiss
straight in his direction. They hadn’t had much time to talk, but agreed to
meet later, after today’s events were over. He asked her if there was a place
they could walk to dinner. She told him Main Street was only three blocks away,
and all the restaurants were staying open late during Cattlemen’s Days.

Bill covered his bronc and his bull, which meant he’d be
moving on to the semi-finals tomorrow. He had one more event tonight, tie-down
roping.

Clancy offered to let Bill borrow his roping saddle. It had a
wide horn leaving plenty of space for Bill’s rope. Clancy also offered to let
him ride his Quarter Horse, Cisco. He helped Bill tape the horn for better
grip, and then had another surprise—a new rope. It felt stiff in Bill’s
hand, but flexible enough to bend around the head of the charging calf.

He sneaked a look into the stands, to make sure Dottie was
still there. When his eye caught hers, she blew him another kiss.

Three cowboys before him failed to keep their calf secure,
which resulted in no points. There was one more before him, and then it would
be Bill’s turn.

He watched as the calf was loaded into the chute and a small
piece of breakaway rope was fastened around its neck. The cowboy entered the
box and backed his horse into the corner as the chute workers stretched a rope
barrier across the chute entrance.

The cowboy grabbed his rope, readied his horse, and signaled
the chute worker to open the chute. The calf ran forward, the barrier popped,
and the cowboy followed.

The cowboy lassoed the calf, and leaped off his horse to
wrangle and tie the calf. Bill heard an audible snap, and the audience reacted
with a gasp. Then silence. At the same time the cowboy turned and walked away
from the calf, rodeo officials on horseback raced to the center of the arena
and crowded around the downed calf.

Bill watched as rodeo officials loosened the rope from the
calf’s neck, covering its eyes and easing its legs to the ground.

“What happened?” he asked Clancy.

“Looks like the rope’s knot landed square on the back of the
calf’s neck. The force of the horse’s stop flipped the calf upside down and
directly onto its spine. It’s called a jerk down. And it’s a move that was
explicitly banned years ago.”

“What are they doing now?”

“They’re sedating the calf to get it out of the arena.”

Bill wanted to believe Clancy, but the calf didn’t look
sedated, it looked dead. No cowboy ever wanted to see an animal of any kind
hurt in rodeo. Regardless of whether it was hurt, or dead, Bill was devastated.

“I’m out.”

Clancy turned away from watching the vets work on the calf,
and looked straight at Bill. “You’re quittin’?”

“Yes, sir. I am.”

Clancy nodded his head, walked over to one of the officials,
and then led Cisco out of the arena with Bill still in the saddle. As he passed
Dottie in the stands, he almost couldn’t bring himself to look at her. When he
did, he saw she had her head in her hands, and she was crying.

What had begun as one of the best days of his life had sunk
into a horrible nightmare
.

When she went back inside no one seemed to have noticed she
and Bullet were gone. Rather than sitting in her seat at the table, she began clearing
dishes. Soon Liv joined her.

“Everything okay?”

She didn’t want to lie, but she also didn’t want to talk about
it.

“I’m more tired than I thought,” Tristan finally admitted.
“And ready to go home.”

Liv rubbed her shoulder. “I’m sorry I made you stay. It’s just
that I love having you here. If you promise to come back soon, I’ll promise not
to be so selfish next time.”

“It isn’t that,” she smiled at Liv’s apology. “I really am
tired. But I’m also glad I stayed.” For the most part. Liv didn’t need to know
what had happened with Bullet on the porch.

She heard the front door open and close, but refused to turn
around to see if it was Bullet. Instead she excused herself and went downstairs
to pack.

***

Bullet could hear Tristan milling around in the guest
room. He approached the door several times, but couldn’t bring himself to
knock. He felt terrible about what happened, and wished he could find a way to
tell her so.

What could he say? That she was more than just a lay
to him? That ought to go over well. He’d tell her things had gone too far. That
her friendship was what was important to him, but he’d be lying, and she’d
know.

He wanted her, then and now. He rested his hand
against the door, willing her to open it, and let him in.

***

The broncs were loaded into the trailers, and they were close
to ready to leave. When Bullet packed Grey’s bag, his son had a temper tantrum,
lying on the floor, kicking his feet, and crying. Clearly Grey didn’t want to
leave. If Tristan hadn’t left an hour earlier, he wouldn’t have wanted to
either.

He couldn’t decide whether to try to talk to her, or stay out
of her way. He finally decided on the latter. If she wanted to talk to him,
she’d know where to find him.

“Hey bro—” Lyric slapped him on the back and scared the
crap out of him. It was something she used to do when they were little. She’d
tell him he should practice “feeling her presence,” so he wouldn’t be startled
when she came up behind him. He figured that was a load of crap, and she did it
because she liked to see him jump out of his skin.

“What happened with you and Tristan last night?”

“Why? What did she say?”

“She didn’t say anything, but the two of you avoided each
other all morning.”

So she had been avoiding him. He was glad now he hadn’t sought
her out. It only would’ve made everything worse.

“Ain’t like we have a reason to be around each other all the
time. Don’t make more of it than it is.”

“Whenever you start talkin’ like a Oklahoma hick I know
somethin’s up. Good thing for you there’s a surprise waitin’ on you when you
get back to Black Forest.”

Bullet hated surprises, and Lyric knew it. As well as he knew
there wasn’t anything he could do to get her to tell him what it was.

“It’s a good surprise.”

Yeah, whatever. He knew what it wasn’t. It wasn’t Tristan waiting
on his front porch for him and Grey to pull up. Any surprise other than that
wouldn’t be a good one.

Bullet pointed toward Grey, who was on the lawn playing with
Caden. “Soon as I pick him up, Grey will turn from the happy little boy he is
at this moment, into a screaming, unhappy monster.”

“I’ll get him,” Lyric offered.

If she was offering, he’d let her. Bullet had already had one
unpleasant tantrum from Grey this morning. His auntie could handle this one.

“Come on Caden, let’s walk Grey over to his truck, so we can
wave bye-bye when he leaves.”

Bullet watched as Caden took Grey’s hand and the two walked to
the truck. Before Lyric could lift him up and put him in his buddy seat, Caden
wrapped her arms around his neck, and plastered a loud smooch on Grey’s lips.
And Grey smiled from ear to ear.

Oh Lord, thought Bullet. His boy was in for it. Girls were
already kissin’ on him, and he was happy as a pig in mud. If he kept this up, he’d
be on the road to a hell of a lot of heartache. Grey could take that from his
old man.

Bullet rubbed his hand over his chest. Yep, it hurt. Bad. He
didn’t dare ask anyone when Tristan might be back in Colorado. Even when she
was, she wouldn’t want to see him.

***

Tristan leaned back against the window seat on the plane, and
lowered the shade. Part of her wished she’d asked Ben to fly her home, the
other part was glad she hadn’t.

Every time she closed her eyes, she could feel Bullet’s hands
on her. And his lips. She could hear his voice, and feel his breath as he
leaned in close to her. She’d wanted him as much as she could feel he wanted
her.

If they’d been anywhere else she wouldn’t have stopped him.
Thankfully, there were too many people at the Flying R last night, and the
thought of them being on the other side of the door brought her to her senses.

Bullet Simmons was dangerous with a capital D. In fact,
dangerous should be in all caps. He was the kind of man who fathered children
with different woman. And worse, he was a bull rider.

He was also playful, and sweet. He was close to his sister, a
good father, and a hard worker. Bill and Dottie adored him, that much was
obvious. He wouldn’t have a job with the Flying R team, or a sponsorship, if he
wasn’t a decent guy. He was good with kids. And horses. And her. Especially
her. She groaned and covered her face with her hands.

“Tristan? Is that you?”

There were only two people on earth she really didn’t want to
see this morning. One was Bullet Simmons. The other was standing in the aisle,
putting his carry-on in the compartment above her row of seats.

***

After crying for twenty minutes when they left the ranch, Grey
slept the rest of the way home, all six hours. Playing with Caden the last
couple days must’ve worn him out, and Bullet was thankful for it. He only hoped
that he’d be tired again by bedtime. If Grey couldn’t sleep later, Bullet
wouldn’t be able to either.

When Dottie called his cell to say they were stopping for
something to eat, he told them he’d keep driving. He dared to stop only once,
to give the horses a break. Grey slept through it. He wouldn’t risk it again.

He was tempted not to answer his phone when it rang again, but
knew he had to in case it was Bill or someone else from Flying R.

“You home yet?”

“You’re always givin’ me shit about not feeling the twin
thing, how come you don’t know if I’m home or not?”

“Ha, ha. You’re funny. I guess you aren’t yet.”

“Nah. I’m close though. Why?”

“You’ll see.” Silence. Lyric had hung up. What the hell?

***

“Tell me you aren’t sitting here,” she asked when he threw his
jacket on the aisle seat.

He pulled his boarding pass out of his back pocket. “Yep, I
sure am.”

“Then I’m moving.”

The flight attendant standing behind him in the aisle stopped
her. “Stay where you are. These are the last two open seats. We have a full
flight, and Mr. Harris is our last standby passenger.”

Mr. Harris.
Tristan turned back toward the window
and rolled her eyes. Addressing him in such a respectful way was a waste of
words. There wasn’t a single thing about Walter Harris that was respectable. He
was a dirty, rotten scoundrel. In fact, scoundrel was too good a word for the
bull rider. He was the devil incarnate as far as she was concerned.

“Tristan McCullough. Fancy meeting you here,” he said after he
fastened his seat belt.

“If a stranger was sitting where you are, I’d ignore him the
same way I’m going to ignore you.”

Walter leaned over, resting his arm on the seat between them.
“You can’t ignore me and you know it,” he drawled. The way he said it made her
skin crawl. And it made her think of Bullet.

Since she met him, Tristan had been comparing Bullet to
Walter. Having him seated near her showed her how wrong she’d been. Bullet was
nothing like this slimeball.

The way Bullet spoke to her was seductive, and soothing.
Bullet made her feel safe. Deep down she knew she could trust him. Walter made
her feel sleazy. She couldn’t wait to get off the plane and take a shower. Had
he always worn cologne? And that much of it?

***

Since Grey was still asleep, snoring in fact, Bullet waited
until he was out of the rig to call for help unloading the broncs. Dead tired
though he was, he knew it would be hours before he could sleep. As soon as Grey
was awake he’d be rarin’ to play, and Bullet would not be able to deny him.

Bullet recognized the SUV in the driveway as soon as he pulled
up to the house. Lyric was right, it was a good surprise. There were lights on
inside, so either one of the ranch hands let his gram in, or showed her where
the front door key was hidden.

“Grey, time to wake up,” he said softly to his son. “Gram is
here to see you.”

“Not just Gram, Yaya and Poppa are here too.” Bullet’s father
came up behind him, a big grin on his face. “Now hand over my grandson,” he
smiled.

Grey buried his head in Bullet’s shoulder. “Someone’s shy,”
said his mother, coming up behind them. Grey peeked over Bullet’s shoulder and
held his arms out to his grandmother.

“It’s her voice,” Bullet’s father said. “Soothes the soul.”

Bullet hugged his dad after he handed Grey to his mother.

“Oh my goodness, he’s heavy. What have you been feeding him?”
she teased.

“I’ll take him Guinie,” offered his dad.

“No, it’s been too long since I held him. You wait your turn.”

Bullet followed his parents into the house where Gram was
waiting.

“I can’t believe Lyric kept our secret. She did, didn’t she?”
Gram pulled him into a big hug, just like Dottie’s. He wondered if he had
remembered it right, how similar they were.

“She did,” he answered, and rested his head on his
grandmother’s shoulder. She ran her hand through his hair like she did when he
was growing up. “Long drive?”

“Yeah. Long week before it too.”

“Have a seat, and let me get you a beer,” offered his dad.
“You still drink beer, don’t ya?”

“You must not have checked the fridge, or you wouldn’t be
asking,” Bullet answered. “There’s plenty in there. At least there was when I
left.”

Gram had his favorite dinner waiting on him, and she and his
mama whisked Grey off for a bath. His daddy sat down at the table with him.

“Not hungry?”

“You know your gram, she made sure I had three helpings before
she let me leave the table,” Caleb rubbed his hands over his stomach. “You
gonna ask what we’re all doin’ here?”

Bullet’s mouth was full, so he nodded.

“You need a break son, and we’re here to make sure you take
it.”

“Listen daddy—”

“No, you listen. We’re here because Bill and Dottie Patterson
asked us to come.”

“Why’d they do that? How did they even know how to get in
touch with you?” Bullet had given Dottie his gram’s phone number in case
anything happened to him on the ranch, or while he was riding bulls.

“She didn’t. Dottie asked your gram to come, and since we were
planning to fly in yesterday anyway, she picked us up at the airport in
Denver.”

Bullet pushed his plate back. He’d lost his appetite. He’d
been trying to be a good employee, to work hard for the Pattersons, and not let
the fact he was raising his son on his own interfere with his job. If Dottie
had asked his gram to come, he obviously wasn’t succeeding.

“What am I doin’ wrong?” he said to himself as much as he did
his father.

“It isn’t that. They asked her to come because they think you
need a little time to yourself. And they know you well enough to know you wouldn’t
depend on their kindness if they offered to watch Grey for a few days. So they
called in the cavalry…in the form of your grandmother.”

Bullet still didn’t understand. Between Billy telling him that
he’d raised his daughter on his own, and Lyric always after him about following
his dream, and now this, it seemed as though everyone was encouraging him to do
the opposite of what he knew he needed to be doing.

Had he proven himself to be so undependable that even the
smallest sign of responsibility made everyone believe he needed a break to get
his head screwed back on crooked?

“Lyric said you were thinkin’ about gettin’ a place in
Colorado.”

“She’s right. Not sure where yet though. Got any ideas?”

Bullet talked to his dad about the places in Colorado he knew
well, and brought up other towns he’d like to visit.

“Lyric suggested Aspen. I don’t know why. Seems like a sleepy
ol’ town to me.”

“Lots of rockers maybe.”

“Don’t know about that. Unless you mean the chairs. I’ve been
to Telluride a few times for their Blues Fest. Although outside of that and ski
season, doesn’t seem like too much is happening there either.”

“Colorado ain’t Los Angeles.”

“It sure isn’t. But it’s
all good. I’m done with LA anyway. Doesn’t matter anymore where you’re based.
You can record music anywhere. You can set up a damn studio in your house.”

Bullet told his dad about Ben’s set up in Crested Butte. “You
should check it out.”

“I got a call from Ben
recently. About hookin’ up with Mark Cochran. Won’t that be somethin’?”

Bullet remembered Ben talking about it several weeks ago. He
was probably supposed to arrange it, or at least tell his dad, but he’d
forgotten all about it with Callie’s death.

“That would be somethin’. Mark lives close to here. I don’t
know if Ben told you.”

“Yep, and we’re scheduled to get together day after tomorrow.”

“Where?”

“Here. At Mark’s. Like you said, he lives close. Ben is comin’
in tomorrow for dinner, and then the next day we’ll see what kind of musical
firecrackers we can light up.”