Chapter 3
1479 Words
Chapter Three
Colton stood in the shadow of the bonfire, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a half-smoked Cuban in the other. Lydia Grace was a contradiction. The look she’d given him as she walked away had made him instantly hard. Made his balls ache for sweet relief. Contrary to the bad-boy reputation he cultivated in the rodeo world. It had been a long time since a pretty lady had warmed his bed. Too long, his d**k yelled at him.
But he wasn’t home for a quick lay. Hell, if he wanted that, he could hit any bar on a Tuesday night along Lincoln Avenue back home and find a willing companion. One thing was certain – Lydia Grace was not the kind of woman you scratched an itch with. Her goodness oozed out of her. Even when she tried to put on bad-girl airs. Lydia Grace would never be anything but good. Even if her sexy curves drove him wild, she was out of his league. And he’d received Dottie’s warning plain and clear – Lydia was off-limits. Not for the likes of him.
He took a puff of the cigar, letting the sweet tobacco swirl in his mouth. Too bad. His instincts told him Lydia’s sensuality was largely untapped, and likely ran deep. He might be wrong about so much in his life, but he was rarely wrong about women.
“Earth to Colt,” Parker Hansen, who’d been just a year ahead of him in school, scoffed. “You’re either thinking about a woman or your bank account.”
“What if I asked you that same question?” That was a cagey answer, but if he admitted to Lydia’s brother-in-law he’d been imagining what was underneath that soft dress she wore, he doubted he’d still be standing.
“Hell, I’m still a newlywed. I’m supposed to think about nothing but my wife all the time.”
“That how it works?”
Parker smiled the smile of a satisfied, content man. “Wouldn’t change it for the world.”
Parker had been a r****e-rouser. It was no surprise he’d ended up in a risky profession like fighting fires. Also not surprising was that he’d paired off with Cassidy, Lydia’s older sister. She and Parker had egged each other on all the time when they’d been young. Funny how even after ten years, some things never changed. Melancholy poked at him. Catching up with folks this afternoon had been fun. But it hurt, too. They’d moved on with their lives. Settled down. Some even with kids, now. And rightly or wrongly, he still saw them through seventeen-year-old eyes. He’d been surprised to learn that one of his old buddies was now in the state pen for distributing drugs to minors. Colton shuddered. In the throes of his misbehavior as a teenaged delinquent, he’d never thought of his actions as bad… And yet, if Travis hadn’t given him an ultimatum and kicked him out, would he have ended up the same way? He sipped on his whiskey, pondering.
“You ever think you’ll settle down?” Parker asked.
Colton kicked the dirt. “Prob’ly not. Rodeo life is no life for a wife and family. And I’m not quitting until I win World Champion.”
“What happens when you do?”
Colt gave Parker a sardonic smile. “Guess I’ll be in the market for a wife, then.”
“But in the meantime, you’ll leave a string of broken hearts across the west.” Cassidy wrapped her arms around Parker’s waist, perching her chin on his shoulder. “Am I right?”
Colton quirked a smile and toasted the couple. “I don’t kiss and tell.” The words had barely left his mouth when Lydia joined him.
Her laugh cut through the night air like music. “That’s new.”
“What’s new?” Cassidy turned to look at her sister.
“Colton. Kissing and telling. I think at one point he had a girlfriend in six towns.”
At least the darkness hid the flames that shot up his neck. “Aww, you can’t hold that against me. I’ve learned a few things since then.”
“Like how not to get caught?” she teased.
But he didn’t want teasing. Not now. And he didn’t want her thinking ill of him. “Like maybe I’m secretly a one-woman man.”
She laughed, genuinely amused. “I’ll believe that when pigs fly over to mama’s food truck and line up for bacon.”
Her joke cut the tension, made everyone laugh. “You always did have the best zingers,” he said after Parker and Cassidy took their leave.
She grinned back at him, and his chest went funny. “Had to, to survive in our house.”
“Dance with me?”
“Lose the cigar.”
Without taking his eyes off her, he tossed the cigar.
“Give me your drink.”
“It’s straight whiskey.”
“And?” She held out her hand.
He handed over the plastic cup and she downed the remains in one gulp. Damn if that wasn’t sexy as sin. He extended his hand, and she stepped into his embrace, easily following his lead as he moved them to the edge of where the other couples danced by firelight. It was the perfect night for a bonfire. Cool and crisp, mid-forties. Perfect for snuggling. For a moment, neither spoke, they swayed to the beat of Lady Antebellum in the firelight. Then they both filled the silence at once.
“You first,” Colton said with a laugh.
Lydia tilted her head back, studying him. “I heard you rodeo. And you’ve done well.”
He shrugged. “I guess you can say that. I started off in saddle bronc, but the last two years, I’ve made a run for best All-Around Cowboy, and it’s hard to do that in a single event. So I expanded to bareback and bullriding.”
“Why not do a timed event like steer wrestling or tie-down roping?”
He grinned down at her. You could take a girl out of the country… “Honestly? Takes too much precision. Costs too much. In the rough stock events, it’s just me and the ride.”
“Man against beast,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
“Exactly. And when I was eighteen and sleeping on the ground, or in the back of a truck, I knew if I just held on, I’d have a fighting chance to make enough money to get to the next town.”
Her eyes went wide. Even in the dim light, he could see the effect his words had on her. “First few years after I left were hard.” Brutal. If it hadn’t been for Dottie securing a ranch-hand spot for him with a friend of a cousin who lived in Steamboat, he’d have ended up homeless.
“I had no idea,” she murmured. “I always wondered.”
Colton’s heart twisted painfully. He’d always regretted not staying in touch with Dottie, and by extension, her. But he’d been young and cocky and full of himself. And had a chip on his shoulder the size of a fourteener. “But enough about me. I want to hear about Libby-Lyds. What have you been up to?”
She scowled at him. “More than finding cheap thrills in the next town.”
Sassy. He deserved that. He’d been an a*s to her. He’d take her barbs as long as she stayed in his arms and kept talking to him.
“Because those touchy-feely metrosexuals you date are a better bet?” He dared her to disagree with him. “Let me guess. You’re one of those girls who just likes to be held all night long in your white flannel nightie.”
She stiffened in his embrace. A-ha. He had her there. She could deny all she wanted, but he had her number.
“Judge me all you like, but at the end of the day, who’s living and who’s playing it safe?” He shouldn’t goad her this way. But he’d scrapped and fended for himself, and so what if he enjoyed life along the way? He’d always been completely upfront with the women he’d bedded. No feelings, no commitment. Only pleasure.
Her eyes snapped to his, lit with anger and something else. Something hotter. “And maybe you’ve misjudged me. Maybe I’m one of those girls who takes what she wants and wears a red lace thong.”
Before he could respond. Before he could even think of a quippy comeback, she’d tugged on his neck, raised on tiptoe and pressed her mouth against his.
She’d kissed him once before. So long ago, she probably didn’t recall, but he did. He’d thought about that kiss off and on through the years, the only kiss, however brief, that had been delivered like he mattered.
This kiss? Was way more. Hotter, angrier.
She tasted of whiskey and sin wrapped up in soft curves and apple pie. With a low groan, he snaked an arm around her and pulled her flush against his body. Her sweetness molded against him with a heat that made his head spin. Any number of people would tan his hide for the way he was kissing her, but he didn’t care. Her tongue slid against his, and he received it willingly, drinking her in, letting the sensations pull him heavenward, out of his skin, out of his past, and into a future of possibility where he was worthy of someone as special as Lydia Grace.
- Writer
