Roped Tight by Kim Loraine
Sam
My face throbbed,waking me just as the front door slammed shut, rattling the blinds in my room.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” Clint said, his voice far too chipper.
“Mornin’, yourself. What time is it?”
“Earlier than anyone wants to be awake. We got cows to move.”
I felt like death and was pretty sure I looked worse. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for a night of serious drinking if this was what it felt like the next day.
“Why do you look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? You’re the one who spent the night in jail.”
Clint chuckled and took a drink from his thermos. “A lot of water, a little sleep, and about a gallon of coffee.”
“When’d you get out?”
“Dad bailed us out around two. How’d you get home?”
I snagged a pair of jeans off the chair in the corner and had to swallow hard before I could say Tucker’s name. “Tuck pulled me out back and took me home.”
“He’s a good guy. I’m glad Dad brought him on.”
I rubbed at the back of my neck, the skin burning at the memory of kissing him in his truck. “Yeah.”
“Brought you some coffee. Get dressed, drink up. Gonna be a long as shit day.”
He set a travel mug on the dresser before leaving me be.
Long wasn’t the right word for how the day went. Endless was more like it. I’d caught sight of Tucker a handful of times as we rode out and rounded up the cows. He barely spared a glance at me. Except for once. One time I found him riding next to me. His jaw tight, gaze trained ahead of us until it wasn’t. Until the man looked me right in the eye, and everything stopped.
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, Shadow spooked, and I had to get her under control while he rode on. But we’d had a fucking moment just then. There was no denying it.
By the time we brought the final cow in for her shots, my shoulders and back ached. I was ready for a hot shower, some supper, and my bed, in that order.
I sighed and strode toward the main lodge, hoping Mama had some lemonade waiting in the fridge. This time of year, when the sun beat down from an unforgiving summer sky, she usually had cold drinks ready and waiting by the end of the day. Sure enough, there was an ice-cold pitcher of the good stuff on a table on the porch and glasses enough for all of us. That woman was a saint.
I filled a cup and took a long swallow, eyes closed, savoring the tart bite of the lemon and the sweetness of the perfect amount of sugar.
“How you feelin’ today, cowboy?” Tucker’s voice washed over me in a way I wasn’t ready to examine.
I jolted and choked on the last of my drink. “Fuck, I didn’t see you there.”
He gave that low chuckle I liked too much. “I know. You looked like you were having a religious moment with your lemonade there.”
“It’s fucking good.”
“Samuel.” The screen door slammed, and Mama stood behind me, a frown on her face.
Tucker smirked, reaching past me and grabbing a glass. His arm brushed mine, but that wasn’t what made my chest tight. His intense stare did. “Sorry, Mama,” I said through a thick throat.
“Tuck, don’t you let my boys corrupt you. They seem to have forgotten that the English language has more to it than just expletives.”
My cheeks burned as embarrassment first skittered, then spread through me.
Tuck tipped his hat. “No, ma’am. I won’t let them offend my delicate sensibilities.”
She smiled. “Good. Now, maybe you can rub off on Sammy. Did you know he got in a bar fight last night? Honestly, if only one of my children could make it through a season without going toe-to-toe with the Langston boys, I swear, I’d be happy.”
I shrugged. “It wasn’t a Langston.”
“Oh? Who was it?”
“Near as I could tell, they were Wildes,” Tucker said. Alarm bells rang in my mind. The Wildes were pretty damn far away from home to be at The Silver Spur.
I didn’t care who it’d been. All I knew was they’d gone after Clint, and I couldn’t let that stand. You messed with one of us, you messed with us all. That was just the way things worked.
“Wildes,” Mama mused. “Well, I’ll be. I thought they’d moved on to bigger, better places after George and I refused to sell to ‘em.”
Tucker’s brows rose. “You told Wesley Wilde no? That’s not somethin’ that happens often.”
“She has a habit of telling him no.” I smiled when Tucker’s attention turned to me.
“What do you mean?”
“She was his girlfriend until the day she met my dad.”
Mama shot me a look that said I’d be mucking extra stalls for a week. “That’s enough yammering on. I’m sure the two of you have work to do.”
“Day’s done, Mama,” I said, chuckling at the spark in her eyes.
“Not for you. Go help Tristan. He’s mucking stalls. You can take over.”
Fuck, I was so damn tired. All I wanted was my bed. I opened my mouth to protest, but Tucker clapped a hand on my shoulder, the contact sending a zing of awareness down my spine. “C’mon, Sammy, your mama’s right. There’s always work to do.”
He released me, and I immediately missed the heat of his hand. The screen door slammed shut, jolting me out of my Tucker-induced daze. I would’ve been lying if I’d said I didn’t look at him as he walked in front of me. Those jeans fit him like a second skin, and the arousal rushing through me was something I really needed to get a handle on. I couldn’t be out here, fighting a hard-on over him. Shit.
Adjusting myself, I took a long breath and followed, forcing my gaze everywhere but his ass.