Why does the thought of hitching my trailer to her not bother me? Why do I want to do whatever it takes to make her want me like I want her?
What’s confusing the hell outta me is that I even care. What is it about her that pulls me to her wherever she is? Why does it bother me that she thinks negatively of me?
Fuck me. Thinking in fucking circles is driving me crazy.
What is it about her that is so different from any other woman I’ve ever gone to bed with? Why do I think about her as soon as I wake up? Why do I look for opportunities to bump into her when I’m in the house through the day? Why do I walk around with a fucking hard-on day and night?
There’s no time for thoughts like this, I need to focus on spending time with my family, I can’t add a woman to the mix. I’ve always compartmentalized the different parts of my life: work, family, fun, women/sex. Yes, women and sex are in the same box, the more casual and fleeting, the better.
When I left Delta Force to join Callum’s team, I made a commitment to the team and myself that can’t be muddled with distractions of a woman. Distractions get people hurt, when I’m with my team I have to be one hundred percent with the team.
I’ll be damned if I’m the one who becomes the kink in the fucking chain because my head is not in the game. It also nearly guts me to think about her being attached to me and getting that call. Thinking of hurting her in that way is like a punch in the gut.
That’s what I keep telling myself, it’s become my mantra every time she crosses my mind, which is all. the. fucking. time.
But, fuck me, I can’t stop seeing her beautiful face every time I close my eyes. When I’m standing close to her, I feel like something has clicked into place but I don’t know what that means. Even when she left me with giant blue balls the other night, I didn’t get pissed off and label her a cock tease before I dismissed all thoughts of her.
Well, it’s not all together her fault, she did try to stop me but there wasn’t a chance in hell I wasn’t going to finish her off when she was right on the edge.
I’m not sure why she was at that bar last weekend, at first I thought she might be one of those women who get off on getting the attention and turning men down. Why else would a beautiful woman be at a bar reading? Why not a library? Or a quiet corner nook? Hell, there’s a fucking library room in the God damn house.
When we sat down at her table I could see innocence and maybe a little sadness in her eyes. Something about her felt so vulnerable and, for some unknown, unwanted, and confusing reason, everything in me wanted to make her feel safe.
I like to think of myself as a good judge of character, behavior, and my surroundings - she didn’t belong there. She was so out of her element that when I took her smaller hand in mine, she nearly panicked.
I’ve been with a lot of women, I know what an experienced woman looks like and how they act, especially those that hang out where they know team guys will be.
Sloane is not one of those women.
Hell, maybe she wanted to be but couldn’t. Whatever she was doing, she got more than my dicks attention, that’s for fucking sure.
What in the hell kind of karmic, perfect storm bullshit has to come together to get us right here, right now? For the first time in my life, I want more than just sex but she keeps pushing me away.
The screen door at the other corner of the porch opens and Gray walks out, quietly pulling the big, wooden door of the kitchen closed behind him, coffee in hand. Like me, he’s always up before the sun. Working a farm will condition even the worst kind of morning person.
His Carhart jacket is zipped up and his cowboy hat is low on his head to hold in the heat.
In his other hand is a folded-up letter. I wait for him to sit down and have a few sips of his coffee before I start looking at the letter, he wouldn’t have brought it out here if he didn’t want me to see it.
Gray’s not a talker, he doesn’t socialize, and he doesn’t sit around, so I know something is off when he keeps looking out at the view. Without looking at me, he extends his arm across the little table tucked between the two wicker chairs we’re sitting in, waiting for me to grab the letter.
My mind is racing as I try to predict what could possibly be written on this piece of paper that would have my brother acting out of character, Gray doesn’t let things bother him, at least he doesn’t show it. I set my coffee on the table and unfold it.
With each line I read, my eyebrows move higher on my forehead and then my eyes snap in Gray’s direction. “What the fuck, Gray?”
“I know, I found a couple more in Dad’s office in the barn, the oldest one that I found was from the first of this year.” He doesn’t look at me but sips his coffee.
“This ranch has been in this family for generations, tell me he hasn’t responded or entertained selling even an acre of it.”
“He said he’s just ignored them, but with each letter, the offering price goes up.”
“Who fucking cares? Just keep ignoring them. The land and this ranch are worth far more than any number they can throw at us.”
“Did you read the last paragraph? They will be sending a representative to visit with us, but it doesn’t say when. I suspect the next letter will give us a date, I would like you to be around when they do.”
“They can send all the ‘representatives’,” I hold up air quotes, I never use air quotes because they look stupid, that’s just how angry I am, “they want, I’ll tell each and every one of them to go fuck themselves and get the hell off our land.”
“I’m a little worried this may have contributed to Dad’s heart attack.”
