Hard 5 by Stephanie Brother
9
They're looking at me funny.
It's lunchtime, and there is nothing different about anything I've prepared. I've made thick sandwiches filled with meat and cheese, exactly the way the Bradfords like them. There's a hot apple pie on the counter that has scented the air in the kitchen with sweet cinnamon. The boys are all dusty and sweaty from their morning labors and talking about work, so no change there.
But alongside all of that, I keep catching things that make me certain Cash has told them about the kiss. It's there in the way that Colt winks at me when he walks in the door and the way Cary sneaks a little sideways glance at me when I sit down to join them for lunch. It's in the extra furrow between Scott's brow and the small, intrigued smile Sawyer gives me too.
And Cash?
Well, he's acting as though nothing happened, except for when he comes to help me bring food to the table and his fingers brush mine. The rhythm of his breathing seems to falter just from that single touch. And his eyes meet mine like he's passing me a bolt of electricity. I have no idea what to do with that much static. No idea how to handle the way his proximity warms every part of me.
And still no idea what is going to happen next.
It's not a feeling I can deal with without frustration. I like life to be predictable, and this is anything but.
But I know, despite all the resentment that I felt when I moved here,I want Cash to kiss me again.
In the book I'm reading, the main characters share a hungry kiss, and for the first time in my life, I can really imagine what it's like. Except my kiss was better than the author described for the heroine. It was so good that it kept me awake last night. So good that all morning, I've found myself paused and still with my fingers pressed to my lips. Thank goodness it's only been Big Boy here to see my foolishness.
"What do you have planned for this afternoon?" I glance up, waiting for one of his brothers to answer but find his gaze on me.
"Err…well, I need to clean up after lunch, and there's some laundry to do. Plus, I thought I'd bake some of those blueberry muffins y'all polished off in record time."
He nods, lowering his sandwich. "Would you like to come out with us? We're driving out to look at a horse."
A horse? I'm pretty sure they have plenty of those, although I've never ventured out to the stables myself. And why does Cash want me to come?
I risk looking around and find all of the Bradfords have paused chewing, waiting for my response. This is definitely to do with the kiss, and my cheeks are telling everyone that I know it.
Ugh. My traitorous complexion leaves nothing a secret.
"Err…sure. What time?"
"As soon as we're done here," Cash says.
"Well, okay. As long as you don't mind dinner being a little later," I say.
Cash nods as though that's fine and Scott mutters something unintelligible under his breath, and inside, my heart flutters like the wings of a bird taking its first flight.
"Did you call the vet to look at that foot?" Sawyer asks Colt.
"I did. He can't come out until tomorrow. He advised me to strap a block onto it so the cow can walk."
"It's in the shed, so I don't think that'll be necessary. Poor thing is just standing there, trying to keep its weight on three legs."
"It's an abscess," Scott says.
"Probably," Cash agrees.
I'm used to this kind of gross conversation at mealtime, so it doesn't put me off my food, but I imagine how Connie's friend Sandy might feel about cow foot pus being discussed over lunch, and I have to stifle a snigger. Or Amber. She's grown up around this kind of thing but strikes me as a woman who'd expect the ranch to be left at the door and everything in the house to be cupcakes and flowers.
As each man finishes, they rise from the table, taking their plates to the counter. They're ready to leave, and I'm still swallowing down the last of my apple pie.
"You don't need to rush," Cary says.
"Because we have all day," Scott grumbles.
"Yes, because your time is worth Mel risking choking," Sawyer says, shaking his head at his twin.
"I'm done."
Luckily my overshirt is hanging over my boots by the front door, and I'm in the car before any of them.
The drive isn't too long. The horse is at an almost adjacent ranch. The owner seems to know and respect the Bradfords, and they all take time to shake hands. Cash introduces me, and the owner, Bill, smiles broadly. "So you're the one getting a horse today?"
I look to Cash, who nods once. Me? They're buying me a horse.
"Come on then. Let's see if you like the little lady."
As it turns out, Little Lady is the horse's name and isn't a reference to her stature. She stands tall and proud, lean, and shiny as a new dime; she's just about perfect as far as I can tell. The Bradfords round her, running hands over her flank, inspecting her eyes, nose, and mouth, and checking out her hooves. Little Lady bears the contact of strangers with dignity, and I see that her name fits her perfectly. There's plenty of low discussion between the brothers, and Bill stands back, smiling at his horse. He knows she's worth good money, and he's confident he's going to get it too.
"What do you think?" Cash says, stroking the soft black hair between Little Lady's eyes. Her lids lower, long lashes fluttering like a woman's. She's enjoying his touch as much as I did, the big flirt.
"I think she's awesome," I say.
"Saddle her up and take her for a ride." Cash nods to the wall where the saddle and bridle are kept, and I'm quick to prepare this beautiful horse. It's been a few weeks since I've ridden, but I haven’t forgotten anything. When I'm up high on her back, Little Lady adjusts her footing and whinnies, and I rub small circles behind her ears, cooing to calm her. Bill opens the door to the stable, and I tap my heels into her gently, letting her know she needs to walk on.
There is nothing like the feeling of riding a horse like Little Lady. The sheer power of the beast beneath you. The connection that develops between animal and rider can be amazing. It's so much more exhilarating than any other mode of transport. We trot, and then I encourage her to canter, loving the way my hair streams out behind me and the feel of the wind against my cheeks. We're a team without even trying.
When I'm sure that Little Lady is just about near perfect, we head back to the stable, finding the Bradfords lined up with their arms folded, watching everything with what seems like a mixture of expressions. Scott definitely isn't happy. If I had to put money on it, I'd bet he doesn't want to make this purchase. He doesn't think I'm going to stay around long enough for me to need a horse of my own. Cary and Sawyer are watching with light in their eyes and smiles playing at their lips. Colt is grinning, and I'd guess he's enjoying whatever is driving Cash to buy me this horse. Cash is wearing his usual watchful and serious expression, but there's something else there too today—a little something that looks a lot like pride.
"She's solid, isn't she?" Bill says.
"She sure is," I tell him.
"Do you want her?" Cash adjusts his hat and comes forward to lay his hands on Little Lady again.
"Of course," I say. "But you don't have to do this." Our eyes meet, and that same electricity passes between us again. Oh boy. Is it stupid that Cash's hand on the horse bothers me because I'd rather it was on me?
Is it strange that this whole thing means way more than flowers or chocolate could?
This is telling me they want to keep me around. Buying Little Lady is more than just purchasing a horse. Cash has listened to what I said, and he's going to make it happen. He's going to broaden my involvement on the farm to more than just house chores. I'm so excited and grateful, but a niggling part of me, the suspicious part that worries, wonders if he is just doing it because he wants more than just kisses from me.
And another part wonders if Connie is right? Does this family of men really prefer polyamory over monogamy? And could this horse be a big gesture to sweeten me into kissing more of the Bradfords?
It's so wrong that I moisten my lips at that thought. When I gaze around at the men watching me, I find myself imagining what each of their kisses would be like. Colt's lips would be smiling as they met mine, and Cary would ask me if it was good. Sawyer would stroke my hair. And Scott?
Our gazes lock, his fierce black eyes slightly narrowed. My instinct is to look away, but I don't. I hold my ground, knowing that if he kissed me, it would be fierce and passionate and maybe even hurt a little.
But that would be okay because I'd give him as good back because I'm certain that's what he needs.
"We'll take her," Cash says, and Scott shakes his head, but I'm sure that just before he turns to make his way back to the truck, that I catch the most fleeting glimpse of a smile playing on his lips.