“I’m never doing this again,” I said as we walked back to the truck. “It doesn’t matter how lighthearted you try to make it. It’s sad and it fucking sucks.”
There was no sense saying that, because we both knew Iwouldbe doing it again. Likely in the very near future. And it would besomuch worse.
Denver
Denver:I found your old saddle while I was cleaning shit out of the shed. Should test it out sometime.
Blair:Found it? Or went looking for it so you had a reason to text me?
Denver:As if I couldn’t think of a million other reasons to text you.
Blair:Name one.
Denver:I saw a lab puppy in town, there was a grumpy cat meme that looked like you, I wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked when I saw you at the big house earlier
Blair:Did you just compliment and insult my appearance in the same text?
Denver:It was a cute cat, and you looked really good
The past couple weeks have been a frenzied mixture of our typical summer work on the ranch—getting the hay cutand stored, checking on the grazing herds, fixing fences—combined with a lot of wedding prep for an event the women keep insisting is “low-key.” Plus, Blair is in a state of constant motion, always moving between a million tasks. So I’m left pining.
The way we’re texting every day while pretending like there’s nothing else going on is awfully reminiscent of when we first started dating as teens and were too nervous to tell our families. But back then, we could steal kisses in the barn or hold hands on the bus to get us by. Now it’s glimpses from afar when she’s on the ranch, our daily text conversations, and a couple of midnight phone calls to keep me on the hook.
And God, does Blair Hart know how to keep me hooked. Last week, she wore a miniskirt that the fashion gods obviously designed for quickies bent over her fucking desk. Today, a low-cut tank top and something spread across her freckled chest to make it shimmer in the sunlight as she helps Cecily decide how to lay out the reception tables. It doesn’t help knowing our tests both came back negative, and the next time I fuck her will be with nothing between us.
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but the only thing happening for me is that I’m becoming accustomed to my dick being in a permanent semihard state, because I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want her.
Staring intently while I pretend to check the oil in a ranch pickup, I don’t notice a group of guys come up behind me until a hand slaps me square between the shoulder blades. Colt grins, sidling up next to me. With a rough throat clearing, I adjust my hat and give him a curt hello.
“Staring at the hot nurse?” One of the ranch hands, Rob, chuckles, and a few join in.
“Nurse practitioner. And shut the fuck up.” I glare over my shoulder at him.
He snorts. “Fucking hell.Nobody drink the water ’round here, there’s gotta be something in it. First Red, now Denny.”
Colt glances in my direction out of the corner of his eye, giving me a look that says he’s considering punching Rob on my behalf.
“Sounds like you could use some, Rob.” I jab my finger into his side. “When’s the last time anybody touched your ugly ass?”
Colt howls, punching Rob in the upper arm. “No magical water is going to get this guy laid, that’s for sure.”
I shake my head and drop to the ground, sliding back under the truck. At some point, the sound of a dozen or so cowboy boots crunch across the rocky driveway, slowly fading into nothing. Dolly Parton’s playing softly somewhere in the distance—likely back at the house—and I hum along while I daydream about Blair, preparing to drain the oil pan at a painstakingly slow pace.
Something taps my boot, and I shake it away.Probably Colt’s dog dropping a stick on my foot to play fetch.Then an unmistakable kick to the heel.
“Jesus, all right,all right.” I finish up and shimmy along the piece of cardboard laid on the ground. Ducking under the bumper, I nearly smoke my skull on the metal when I realize it’s Blair crouched at the front of the pickup.
“Hey,” I croak, reaching for a rag to wipe my filthy hands. “What’s up?”
“You can’t be over here with a fucking backwards hat on, doing all this manly shit, and expect me not to notice.”
I raise an eyebrow and smirk at her. “Really?This is what does it for ya, eh?”
Her soft, clean hands brush against the stubble on my cheeks and she kisses me. Slow, deep, and like she’s not worried at all about somebody coming across us. Which, given how many people live and work on this ranch, is pretty damn likely.
“I needed to do that before I go,” she says against my lips. “It’s been alongcouple weeks.”
“You know I’ll sneak in your bedroom window anytime.” I kiss her again, my arms aching from the restraint it’s taking to not touch her.
