Down Home Cowboy. Maisey Yates
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“You just said he wouldn’t be any fun,” Alison said.
“Right. You’ve seen him, so you know that actually isn’t true. I mean, physically, he would be a lot of fun.”
“You’re a bunch of perverts,” Alison said. “Anyway, my life is full. I’m fulfilled. My business is going well, I’m making a difference. I don’t need to be distracted.”
“I make a difference in a man’s life every night,” Lane said, looking very smug indeed.
“Go away, you’re disgusting,” Alison said. “Good thing my pie is delicious.”
“Does it take the horrible taste out of your mouth of how disgusting I am?” Lane asked.
“Can we talk about anything else, please? It seems to me that many people in this specific circle are either getting married or having babies and I think that both of those things should get more airtime than the hookup that I’m not going to have.”
Her friends begrudgingly complied with her request, but for Alison, the evening was pretty much tainted. By the memory of Cain Donnelly and how gorgeous he was. How much she wanted to trace that square jaw with her fingertip, feel his beard and how rough it might be. See those green eyes sharpen with interest. And by how much she wished... She just wished things were different. Or maybe she didn’t. Maybe she felt relieved.
Or maybe she was caught somewhere between the two things. Which was a strange experience indeed. Regret and relief warring for pride of place inside of her.
Whatever, it was a get-out-of-jail-free card. She knew who he was, and who he was made him off-limits.
So, she wasn’t going to have sex. Which meant she could just eat more pie, because nobody was going to see her naked anyway.
And so that was what she did.
THE MORNING WAS cold and clear, the sun rising up over the mountains just as Cain finished with milking the cows. He walked across the paddock and leaned over the edge of the fence, watching as the rose gold burned away and shimmered into a true, bright yellow gold that washed over the tops of the mountains, over the trees, gilding the edges and setting the fields below on fire. Little yellow-and-purple flowers all ablaze in the day’s early light.
There was something about this part of the day that Cain had come to love. It had taken some getting used to. Getting up at five in the morning and dragging his ass out into the cold with a thermos of coffee and a can-do attitude. But over the past couple of months it had become his favorite moment.
Nothing had gone wrong yet. There was still a world of possibility ahead. And sometimes, it felt like it was just him and the mountains.
“Good morning, jackass,” came a voice from behind him.
And Alex. Him and the mountains, and his annoying little brother Alex.
“It was a good morning,” Cain said, turning and facing the other man, who was currently grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. Which basically summed Alex up.
“I’m not feeling the love.”
“You shouldn’t be.”
“What were you pondering?” Alex asked, making his way over to the fence to stand next to him.
“The joy of silence. And of being an only child.”
“Well, you pretty much were growing up.”
That was true. Their dad had liked to spread it around, and he had liked to procreate. But he hadn’t liked to raise the children he created. So, even though there had been variations in their childhoods, they’d had that in common.
“I was,” Cain said. “And you know what? I was happy.”
“I have yet to see evidence that you’ve ever been happy a day in your life,” Alex said, ripping him cheerfully. Alex did everything just a little bit too cheerfully. Sometimes, Cain thought he glimpsed something else beneath that good-natured cheer. Something darker, something that Alex clearly didn’t want anyone else to see.
Alex had served in the army for more than a decade, and during those years had spent a lot of time overseas. Cain knew that his younger brother hadn’t come out of that service without some scarring, mentally, if not physically. But he did a damn good job of hiding it.
Which made Cain suspicious that what was under all that was pretty dark. But he wasn’t going to go poking at it with a stick. If he did that, his brother might return the favor.
“If I remember correctly, I have been happy once or twice,” he said. The day of his wedding and the day of his daughter’s birth came to mind. Nothing else jumped out in his memory.
“I would be happier if I had a refill of coffee. How about you?”
“It’s about that time,” he acknowledged, brushing his knuckles against the brim of his hat and tipping it back on his head. “Actually, it feels past time.”
Suddenly, he felt tired. The kind of tired that had nothing to do with sleep. The kind that weighed a man down.
He hadn’t slept for shit last night. Every time he closed his eyes he’d imagined sifting his fingers through red hair, touching soft, pale skin. He’d been so hard it had been physically painful. But he had refused to do anything about it. Had refused to give himself any relief.
Because his damn body deserved to be punished for wanting to get it on with the single most complicated woman he could have found in a small town. And, given that it was such a small town, most women were going to be complicated in some way or another. So, that was saying something.
Really, the only woman that could possibly be more complicated would be a married one. And even then, maybe not so much. Because, as long as it was a secret...
Not that he would ever go there. His own marriage might have been an unmitigated disaster but he respected the institution too much to go sticking his dick where it didn’t belong.
Just as they were approaching the house, the front door jerked open and out came a very stormy-looking Violet, wearing black leggings, a plain gray T-shirt, and a hoodie with only the bottom zipped, the hood up over her hair. She stomped down the stairs and stopped in front of Cain, seeming surprised momentarily as she very nearly ran into him. “Where were you?” she asked, expression furious.
“I was out doing my job,” he said, trying to keep his tone measured, even though he could sense that this was about to become a fight.
“Well, I’m late to my job,” she said, nearly shouting. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I didn’t know you were opening this morning, Violet,” he said, much more patiently than the situation warranted, he felt. “And it’s your responsibility to set your own alarm.”