Chapter 15
Joy
OfalldaysforTate to find me in the barn, he chooses the worst possible one. I’m covered in shit. Literally. And on top of that, I’m a sweaty mess. It’s been warm for the season, and it really doesn’t take much to work up a sweat when taking care of horses and mucking stalls. As far as being covered in actual horse shit? That doesn’t take much either.
“Tate, it’s really not a good time,” I say, praying he’ll just leave.
If he didn’t want me when I was freshly showered and wearing his clothes, I definitely don’t need him to see me like this. He looks at me like I’m not a complete disaster and steps closer. I swear I wish I could disappear.
“If you really want me to leave, I will, but I need to talk to you. That’s why I’m over here.”
As sincere as he appears to be, I just can’t have him this close to me when I smell like a barn. Like an actual barn. I’m surprised he came to find me. It’s been days since our awkward ride back to his house to get my car. And then I’ve pretty much avoided him like the damn plague.
“Can we please do this another time?” I plead.
“Okay, when? I’m not doing anything later…”
I stare at him for a long moment before looking down at my feet until I can work up the courage to meet his gaze. “Tate, I’m filthy. I’m sweaty. Can you please just…” I trail off.
“Just what?” He steps closer as he asks, causing my heart to pick up speed with each of his movements.
“I don’t know. I’m free tonight; but look at me. Tomorrow night is Saddle Club, and I work at the doctor’s office during the day. How about this weekend?”
He’s shaking his head before I even get the words out. “I’m traveling to an event this weekend. It’s the only one I travel for.”
Immediately, my mind goes to his unwillingness to drive me home when the water was rising. “I thought you couldn’t be away from the ranch.”
“Hayden always takes care of the animals for me since he doesn’t travel for anything anymore. Like me, when he finished in the rodeo circuit, he started sticking around Boulder Ranch for the season. Just come over when you’re done. You’ve showered at my place before.”
And now my mind wants to replay that night, and how it ended. It sends my heart racing just thinking about it. That’s probably what he wants to talk about. Explain how it shouldn’t have happened and could we just go back to being friendly acquaintances. Regardless of what he wants to talk about, I just need him to not be here.
“Will that get you out of here?”
A grin spreads across his face. “Yes.”
“Fine! If you can’t just wait or talk to me over the phone, then I’ll come by after work.”
Somehow, his grin goes wider before he tips his hat and walks away. Of course, I watch as he walks away because how could I not? I will not miss an opportunity to appreciate the way he fills those jeans out.
I get back to work, hoping more than anything that the last few hours will go by fast. From what he said when he dropped me off the morning after I slept at his house, I’d expected him to say more when he brought me back to my car. Maybe he would ask to see me again or tell me what his intentions were. Something. But instead, there was nothing. Hopefully we at the very least get things straightened out.
Once again, I find myself sitting on Tate Garrison’s couch, wearing his clothes. And once again I’m at the mercy of the washer and dryer before I can go home. I’m grateful he didn’t listen to me when I claimed he didn’t need to wash my clothes. I can’t imagine showering and then bringing those nasty clothes home.
“You want to decide what we watch again? You didn’t do so bad last time.”
I smile in response, but inside I’m going crazy waiting to hear what he needs to say in person. We could have kept the small talk for the phone. Looking up, I find his eyes already on me, waiting expectantly for my response.
“Are you going to torture me, or tell me what it is that couldn’t wait for a better time?”
His lip tugs into a cocky smirk, and I want to shake him. The entire rest of my workday was spent trying to guess what he was going to say. As soon as I’d have myself convinced that whatever he had to say would be good, my brain would remind me how things usually work.
Crossing my arms, I turn away to look in the opposite direction. His hand grips the back of my neck and before I can react, he hauls me to him, stopping when we are mere inches apart. I sit frozen, staring into his warm brown eyes. His nearly shoulder-length hair falls forward without his hat to keep it in place. My breathing is coming in short gasps as my eyes dip to his lips in time to catch a glimpse of his tongue as he moistens them.
He parts his lips, but instead of speaking, he crashes his mouth to mine. His mouth is demanding, urgent as his tongue teases at the seam of mine. There’s no stopping the soft moan that escapes as I open for him. Heat pools at my center when I recall the way his hands felt on me. I need him to touch me again. I need more. His grip on my waist is nearly painful as he holds me close.
“I could kiss you forever,” he murmurs.
Too stunned to respond, I search his eyes. We’re back to being mere inches apart, and I take a moment to brush his hair from his face. It really is ridiculous how good looking this man is.
